


An Unwinding

by rinabina



Series: The Unwinding Series [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Cassian is the sweetest Illyrian, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-ACOWAR, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, The Court of Dreams, illyrian babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-11-06 03:07:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11027316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinabina/pseuds/rinabina
Summary: If Nesta Archeron is an impenetrable fortress, how is Cassian, Lord of Bloodshed, General of the Illyrian forces, supposed to get inside without crashing everything around him?  Very, very carefully...My take on the slow unwinding of Nesta and the perseverance of Cassian.  All the usual suspects included.





	1. Prologue

Prologue

Cassian

 

_In the thick of battle, I had to put her from my mind.  Let her go. I had to let all of them go: Mor, my brother, our home. Everything except my men and my High Lord and Lady. For them, I was their blade, their power, their weapon.  I'd fight my way through flesh and bone to carve a path for them. Time and time again, the flash of steel and crimson blinded my vision as I broke through one line after another._

_This battle was slaughter like I'd never known._

_Often times, I’d been known to wager my life on some hairbrained, asshole maneuver that would have Rhys ready to rip my bones out, Az half in the shadows and Mor not speaking to me for a month.  I’d wager everything, merely because I knew we could win.  That I could see us through to victory.  Even if I ended up carried off the field in a stretcher, the wounds would heal and the war would be won._

_Not this time._

_Now, in the midst of the battle of my lifetime, I'd abandoned all but traces of myself. I was a machine. Rhys’ weapon.  I would yield for no one–_

_Until she cried my name._

_“CASSIAN!”_

_It was ripped from her lungs like a killing blow.  Over and over again._

_And just like that, I was lost. I knew nothing of my kingdom or my men. Just her._

_Nesta._

_She was calling for me._

_From up here, she was merely an unmarred smear on the battlefield, but I could see her clear as day in my mind’s eye. Brilliant eyes, hard mouth, skin like dawn light._

_Without an ounce of hesitation, I hurtled towards the ground, to Nesta and my family. I took inventory as the wind howled in my ears. All bloodless, in one piece, conscious–_

_Then it happened. Blinding light, and an unstoppable force, plummeting into the depths of my army.  My wings scorched and burned from the force of it._

_Panic consumed my body.  My men._

_Over my shoulder was nothing but clear blue sky.  The lines were there, and then they were gone, nothing but ashes remaining_

My cry echoed off the walls of my bedroom as I flung myself free from the tangle of bedclothes.  I sat hunched in the middle of the bed, chest heaving and skin covered in a clammy sheen of sweat. I drew in deep, rasping gasps of air as I clutched my hands over my face.  Anything to erase the image from my mind, and to keep my guts from spilling open before me.

Gasping breaths turned into dry sobs as sorrow and remorse flowed through my veins like ice crystals ripping me apart from the inside.  My wings were draped over the bed and I pulled them back to my body, absorbing strength and comfort from their proximity.  

Outside my window the misty, grey cloud cover of dawn was fading; washed away like sea foam from the sky.  When my shaking body had calmed to an occasional tremor, I stalked through the open floor-to-ceiling windows of my room in The House of Wind.  The unadorned veranda jutted out into the dawn sky, leaving just enough space for an Illyrian landing.  A cool breeze blew against my bare skin, shocking me with cold and jogging me further from my nightmare.

Below, the pale stone buildings of Velaris were beginning to glow in the rising sun.  The city was safe and whole, healing and protected.  Inside my freezing body, I felt my heart warm at the thought.

My eyes flitted to one particular spot; where two streets met just below the temple high on the hill.  There, in a modest townhouse, she slept.  Equally as safe and healing as the city I called home.

Today I would visit her.  Today I would demand entry into that thick-walled citadel she’d built around herself.  The days of wasting time with Nesta Archeron were over and no one was going to stand in my way except myself...and Nesta Archeron.

 

***

Nesta

 

_“Why did you do it?” he sobbed. His voice sounded ripped from his very lungs, heavy with pain and exhaustion._

_I was crying too, thick trails of tears smearing my cheeks with blood and dirt.  I pressed my hands uselessly over his wounds, cataloging them one by one.  If only I knew the spells.  My throat burned with a suppressed sob._

_“Nesta,” he moaned, eyes closing and body sagging. “Tell me why.”_

_I spread my fingers over his bloody armor, searching for something to hold on to. Something to keep us tethered together as war raged on around us.  “You said it yourself,” I murmured, leaning close so he could hear.  “We need more time. I'm too selfish to let you go.”_

_The anguish on his face was heartbreaking. His lips trembled as he shook his head back and forth. “My men. My men.”_

_“Cassian…”_

_“I'm such a fool.”_

_I grasped a strap across his chest and pulled. “No! No you're…”_

_His eyelids were mere slits now, but I could see his golden hazel eyes shift to me._

Mine. _I wanted to say mine._

_My chest hitched as I watched him. His beautiful face rippling with waves of pain, strong body ripped to shreds under my palms, his hands slipping off my body with fatigue._

_With death..._

_“You're not a fool,” I said instead, lifting a lock of his hair off his forehead. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”  I dropped my head and started to cry._

_He took my hand from his face and squeezed it between grimy, bloody fingers. “I'm sorry too.”_

“Nesta…”

I glared towards my door from the settee by the window.  It was early, and my room was glowing with purple dawn light. With one hand I brushed away a tear that had fallen down my cheek.

Feyre was out in the hallway, pestering me for what felt like the thousandth time.  I bit down hard on my tongue and glared back out the window at the red stone mountains in the distance.  Nestled at the top, I could just barely make out the House of Wind.  Sometimes I wished I was back up there.  Left alone, unbothered...

My sister sighed heavily from the other side of the door.   _“Won’t you at least eat something?”_

Beside me on the settee was a finished breakfast tray that Nuala had waiting for me before I woke.  Porridge and fruit.  I didn’t like that everyone thought I wasn’t eating, or that I wasn’t taking care of myself.  I wasn’t _Elain_.  I had at least some self-awareness.

Most of the time.

“ _Nesta_ please _.  Can I just speak to you for a minute?_ ”

Were I my old, Cauldron-boiled self, I would have blasted the door off its hinges and pinned precious Feyre to the wall.  Things being as they were, however… I doubled my mental shields and stalked leisurely to the door.  I opened it in a long, drawn out gesture that left both our hair swaying in the displaced air between us.

Feyre’s shoulders sagged in obvious relief when she saw my face.  “Thank you,” she said, pressing her palms to her chest.  “I just wanted to see you.”

“ _And_?”

“Won’t you come down for breakfast?”

“I’ve already eaten it.”

Her pale blue eyes narrowed as she gauged the truth of my words.  I gestured pointedly at the cleared tray behind me.  “I’m not _lying,_ Feyre.”

At that she bristled.  “You haven’t been out of this room in days.  What am I supposed to think?  It’s only been a handful of days since Elain locked herself in _her_ room-”

“And now she’s the darling of Velaris like everyone thought.  She’s fine.  We’ll all be fine.  Leave me alone.”

As I started to close the door, Feyre shoved her arm in the way.  “ _Nesta_.”

I glared at her. “ _Feyre_.”

She snarled.  “We’re all hurting.  It’s okay that you are. I just wish you wouldn’t do it alone.”  She reached for my nearest hand and wove our fingers together.  “Come downstairs when you’re ready but...don’t hide in here forever.”

Slowly, grudgingly, I drew in a deep breath.  “I won’t.”

“There are people...specific people...who miss you.”

“Specific people?”

Feyre bit down on her lower lip.  “Tall, Illyrian, smart-ass people?”

My sigh came out like a growl, and I ripped my hand out of her grip.  “If _Cassian_ wants to see me, he can damn well fly down here and knock on my door himself.  I’ve seen him climb through a window before.  There’s no reason he can’t do it now.”

Her eyes narrowed in thought.  “When did he-?”

“Leave me _alone_ , Feyre!”

Slamming my door in my sister’s face was immensely satisfying.  Nearly as satisfying as finally being left alone.  I could feel her, and her creeping magic sulk away down the stairs and out of my space.  I resumed my seat by the window, gazing out at the city below.

Cassian _could_ very well climb through my window.  It would take a lot of effort not to find immense joy in that.  Even I could admit that I missed him, but I was also terrified of him.  Terrified of how he made me feel.

The sky was tinged with pink now, and I watched small black birds swoop in and out of alleyways.  Up at the House of Wind another black speck seemed to launch into the sky.  Desperate not to let my hopes get the best of me, I left the window and moved to the vanity instead.  Nuala appeared from the shadows with a brush and several combs in hand.  I nodded, and her cool fingers sifted into my hair.

Distraction. Distraction was key.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing this like mad since I finished the book. My first piece for this fandom. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Probably around 8 chapters in total. Please share your thoughts below!
> 
> Thank you, as ever to my pre-beta-er and BFF [@NoBaggage](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NoBaggage/pseuds/NoBaggage)


	2. Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And it starts for our General and our Emissary...

#### Doors

Cassian  

 

By the time I ended up nose to nose with Nesta’s door, I realised it was probably unwise for me to be standing here at all.  Perhaps as unwise as going into the fray unprotected, without a weapon.

Yet, I stood, unarmed and vulnerable with my heart feeling like it was outside my chest.  My eyes caught and held a particularly dark knot in the wood of the door before me.  

She’d been in there for days now.  Feyre assured me that the servants were tending to her, but worry still prickled at the back of my mind.  From behind the door, I imagined that I could feel her presence inside, like something warm and certain.  

It had been easy to stay away at first.  After the battle with Hybern, I had my own wounds to heal. My body was bruised and broken physically and emotionally.  Battle was never easy, and _war_ was even more difficult.  I hadn’t forgotten the way our friend and High Lord had battled for us, how he’d given everything to keep us whole, or how I’d lost half of my men in about four seconds.  

As the physical wounds faded to scars and all that remained was the pain in my memory, I longed to see Nesta even more strongly. After what we had shared on the battlefield, I felt as though our fates had been cemented.  The two of us, we _had_ to fit somehow. Otherwise the sacrifices would all be for nothing.  My men, our lives.  What had started out as a game long ago - a challenge for a reaction on her pretty face - had become necessity. I craved her presence at my side; that ice cold demeanor mixed with simmering fire under the surface. I'd been intrigued since the moment I met her but now…

Well, now I was in love with her.

Any female that had me breaking lines in the midst of battle better damn well be the woman I loved.

Still, the revelation had terrified me.  It was partially why I had stayed away so long and perhaps why she too, hadn’t come to me while I was strapped to a bed by the healer.  Not that I wanted her to see me that way.  I knew my mangled body was something that haunted her memory as much as it did mine. Some nights, the only thing holding me together was that I never had to see her body ripped to shreds. No, Nesta had blessedly remained in one, glorious peace that day.

Something I would gladly thank the Mother for every chance I remembered.

I scratched idly behind my ear and stared fixedly at the smooth panes of the door.  No one was inside the townhouse this afternoon.  I’d been waiting for an opportunity like this for days.  I was too embarrassed to linger with  Mor and Az around and I didn’t want Feyre to get any ideas.  I’d passed them all outside in the yard on my way in.  They said nothing, but I felt their eyes on me as I stepped inside.  I felt their ears on me now, listening for any signs of a fight, or worse.

A rustling from inside piqued my attention.  At my wrists, the ruby siphons flared and I bit back a smile. Even my body seemed to knew that facing Nesta Archeron was more akin to a _duel_ rather than an idle chat.

In a fit of desperation, I rapped a knuckle twice against the wood.

The sharp knock was met with silence, the sound dissipating from the deserted hallway, so all that was left was the ringing of my ears. This woman, this _female_ had my body twisted in knots.  It was infuriating.  I wasn’t some green soldier, drunk on the bloodlust of battle and success.  I was Cassian, general of the Illyrian forces and the High Lord of the Night’s fourth in command.  I’d bedded more females than it was polite to count over the last five hundred years.

Yet this female, _Nesta_ , she was Made specifically to get under my skin.  Both in good ways and bad.  Since the moment I’d met her, I _wanted_ her, more desperately than I cared to admit.  And not _wanting_ as a conquest, no.  If that was my goal, I’d have taken a different path.  No, I didn’t want her for pleasure, I wanted her to _keep_.

A possessive growl rumbled low in the back of my throat.  Behind the door, there was nothing but silence.  I leaned into the frame, listening for any sign of movement in the room.  Her name came to my lips in a low whisper.  I said it like an offering.

“ _Nesta_.”

Barely a heartbeat passed before I heard the click of the mechanism in the door, and it was open.

And she was there.

She was dressed and perfectly arranged, as though she could walk out of this house and into the street at any moment she desired.  Her dress was shimmery and grey. It seemed to wrap around her like the tendrils of fog I’d watch slip out to sea that morning.  The fabric rippled over her torso as she sucked in a deep breath.  She was as breathtakingly beautiful as ever.

“Nesta,” I said again, because it was the only thing I could think of to say.  It came out like a sigh of relief.  It was.

“General,” she said, quietly and void of emotion.

My mouth quirked in a smile.  “I could get used to that.”  I studied her face, looking for any sign of humor, of life.  A sparkle in her eye, and tug at her lips, a flush in her cheek.

“I thought I could smell you in the hallway.  I’m glad my Fae senses haven’t chosen to desert me,” she said, voice thin and brittle as ice.  “Have you come for something important or merely to bother me, like usual?”

Hurt and disappointment washed through me like a volley of enemy arrows.  I took them, I bore the brunt of the attack and carried on as though nothing had happened.  I knew who she was, I knew her heart, and I knew it was broken.

Nesta drew a breath and tilted her head to one side, patience already wearing thin.  I jumped to fill the silence before she shut me out.

“I hadn’t seen you and...I wanted to see if you needed anything.”  It was the truth.  I’d get her anything she wanted.  Tea, the family jewels, a head on a pike…

Nesta blinked in surprise.  “You don’t want to know if I’m _okay_?” she asked, pointedly.  I could hear the others asking her this question over and over.  They always did when they didn’t understand.

“No,” I replied, quietly.  “Because you’re not _okay_.  None of us are.”

Watchful eyes studied my face, taking in every cut and bruise that remained.  I’d heard that the Cauldron had taken its magic from her, leaving her as quiet and powerless as the rest of us.  But the fire in her eyes remained.  At least to me.

A tendril of softness had entered her voice as she finally said, “I don’t need anything.”  The finality of her words made my stomach drop, my pulse quicken.    

Without another word, she turned away to close the door.  I nearly threw myself across the threshold to get in one more word.   _One_ more attempt.   “I know grief,” I tried.  Even I could hear the desperation in my voice.  “I know that pain, Nesta.  Maybe better than anyone here.”

Nesta remained in the doorway and watched me with her straw-colored brows pinched in the middle of her forehead.  

“I came here to tell you that if you need anything, I’m here.  Anything at all.  And if, for some reason, I’m called away, send a message.  I’ll come back.”

She was so still and so silent, I thought perhaps she’d turned into stone.  I reached out a hand to press the tips of my fingers into the silk at her forearm.  Warmth.  Life.  Her eyes followed my hand and watched silently as fingers trailed down her arm and into her palm.  Cold as marble, but I squeezed once to drive the message home.  Nesta’s eyes tightened when she finally realized what I'd done. She pulled her hand away and shoved it behind her back.

“You’d leave whatever you’re doing because I sent a note?” Her voice was louder now, stronger.

I blinked twice.  “Yes.”

At that, she rolled her eyes; slow, purposeful and sexy as hell.  “You can’t just leave,” she hissed.  “You’re a _general_.”

“I’m yours.”  It came out without thought, shocking us both.

I felt my own cheeks heat.  It was true, of course, but to say it...

The long column of her throat bobbed and she stood up straighter.

I pushed a tangle of hair off my forehead.  “Anything you need,” I growled, then I turned back down the hall towards the stairs and walked away.

I hadn’t yet heard the sound of her door closing by the time I’d cleared the threshold to the townhouse.  I stepped into the garden and shot into the sky.

 

***

 Nesta

 

Seeing him left a sour feeling at the base of my stomach. Or, rather, perhaps it wasn't sour, just foreign. If I was honest with myself it was warm. And hopeful.

I stood facing the closed door for an indeterminate amount of time, hand poised over my stomach, pressed to the smooth silk of my gown.

Weeks ago, in what felt like _years_ , Cassian had said that he would say hello next time. And he had.  I swallowed hard as I realized he'd promised that to the _old_ Nesta. Before. When I was some other version of myself.

Fire and brimstone.

I'd come out of the battle a husk of my former self; stripped of my stolen power and the surge of emotions that had come after.

Father, this life, my sisters, and Cassian sacrificing myself for me.

Cassian wishing for time.  With me.

And yet, I could see my little sister’s perfect, pale fingers thrusting a knife into the evil king. I could hear the cracks of Cassian’s bones breaking and the godawful sounds that came out of his mouth. I could feel the all-consuming grief and loss of my High Lady sister as she watched her husband die.

It was too much and now I felt oddly empty.  I shuttered the world and my sisters and attempted to heal myself.  I hadn't even sat by Cassian on his sickbed. All those times I'd spent with my eyes glued to him, watching him, and I hadn't laid eyes on him since we'd returned to the townhouse.

Until moments ago, when that arrogant bastard appeared at my door with his stupid, beautiful smile and strong, gentle hands.

Hands I wanted on me, protecting me.

 _I'm yours_ , he'd said.

Mine.  It was all I'd wanted.

Yet, how could that giant, beautiful beast of a man belong to anyone? Let alone _me._

Gradually I realized I was still standing planted to the floor by the door. If I called Cassian back, I knew he would come. He'd come and he wouldn't complain. He'd probably even sit here and try to be quiet if I asked him to.

For a heartbeat, I was tempted, until I remembered I could never give him what he wanted or what he deserved: blind, adoring affection, a lifetime of sweet embraces in dark corners, poetic words of love and sentiment spewed continuously for an infinite life.

None of that was me. I'd hardly told my sisters I loved them, let alone a man. I could never open myself up that much to a near stranger, and stay that way for the rest of our lives. No, I remained latched up tight. Nesta and no others. Nesta and everything I held dear.

But oh how I _burned_ to love Cassian that freely.

I drew in a sharp breath through my nostrils, then let it out. I needed...time. Quiet. I needed rest and solitude to come to terms with myself; what I was and what my life would be.  Perhaps if I sat still enough, if I simmered here in my room, some ounce of power would seep back into my body.  That angry, dark magic that was as much of myself as anything.  I thought perhaps it wasn’t all from the Cauldron...

I placed one foot, then the other, until I was perched by the window, looking down on my sweet sisters, gardening. Elain’s skirts were soaked and muddy, but her smile was infectious. Real and brilliant. Feyre laughed at something Rhys had said from under the overhang, out of view.  Their happiness gave me joy and hope. And Cassian’s presence made me feel like _me._ Like a woman.

Soon.

Soon, I would be well.  Soon, perhaps I could give Cassian what he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassian standing at Nesta's door came into my head fully formed. We'll see how the rest of this goes! Thanks for reading!


	3. Effort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always one step forward, three steps back with her...

####  Effort

Cassian

 

There was no word from Nesta for two days.  Not even Feyre could get her to open her door.  I kept our conversation from the other day a secret.  There was no reason to betray her trust, only to get the hopes up of her sisters.

The townhouse was, for once, calm and quiet.  Despite everything, all the death and healing and war, we were all...quiet.

The weather too seemed to sense that we needed.  Each day had been packed with bright, warm sunlight and calming breezes.  I had my wings stretched behind me on the low bench of the garden, soaking up the light and warmth into my skin.  It felt like heaven, like home.

In the corner of the garden, Azriel and Elain were planting flowers.  She had Az stripped down to trousers and a cotton shirt.  It was...strange.  I felt nosey watching the way she took bulbs and seeds from his hands, one by one.  Az was a gentle being, and it was not often that he met someone equally as gentle and quiet.  Their moments together existed of few words but they were almost too tender to watch.  I turned away now.

Rhys and Feyre were elsewhere, and I didn’t spend much time wondering why.  Mor was out causing trouble somewhere.  Amren was who knows where.  Probably in the pit of the library setting up camp.

I  _ should _ have been at the war camps.  Scouting.  Flying.   _ Grieving _ .  

Anything useful.

I couldn’t leave this house.  Wouldn’t.  Not until she called for me - just once.

Over the last weeks, I had tried not to fixate on what had happened on the battlefield with Nesta.  It was wrought with all sorts of unsavory memories.  Pain, most of all, the death of her father, the slaughter of the king and all that meant for her.

Even the kiss was a blur of delirious pain and desperation.

But I remembered how soft her lips were, and how at last, she had yielded.

With a groan, I lowered my head into my hands.

And what poetic words had flown out of my mouth? Something about wanting time and the next life?  True as it was, it was so... _ fluffy _ .  Was that who I was now?  Stripped of my amour and my military rank by this female and her silent anger.  We’d barely said a handful of kind words to each other and I was ready to lay down my life for her?

My eyes shut tight and I tried to stop the chatter.  I could love her, yes, but I needed to earn her trust before that would be anything other than a solitary game.  I’d laid it all out for her on the battlefield in those few, short words.  Now she needed to want that too.

A narrow shadow shrouded my feet in the grass, and I lifted my head.

Nesta stood, haloed by the afternoon sun, expression wiped clean, except for a renewed brightness in her eyes. “General,” she said by way of greeting.

I hastily stumbled to my feet, folding my wings back to my body in a rush of sun-drenched heat. The breeze of it ruffled her hair. “Emissary,” I said back, bowing my head.

She said nothing, merely watched me for a moment, then traced the lines of my wings with her eyes. “You're healed?”

I grinned and extended my once-broken wing in her direction so she could inspect the healer’s work.  “Still sore, but yes. Apparently it takes more than the near shadows of death to steal me away, sweetheart.”

She ignored the nickname and reached her hand to caress what had once been broken.  Her touch sent a shock through my body that made my toes curl inside my boots.  Her eyes flicked to mine, in acknowledgement, then away, across the garden to where Az and Elain were discussing the finer points of gardening very,  _ very _ quietly.  

Nesta lowered her hand to her side.  “He's very kind to her,” she mused. 

With her eyes drawn away, I took her in, noting the intricate braids at that wound around the crown of her head, and the loose curls cascading down her shoulders.  Pale freckles dotted her cheekbones and the corners of her eyes. I took a step closer, inhaling one deep lungful of her scent.   My voice was gravely as I said, “He's that way with most everyone. Except his enemies.”

Nesta turned her head to gauge my closeness, but she didn't step away.  Her gaze lifted to mine.   In her strange, direct way, she said, “I wanted to go for a walk. Will you come with me?”

I'd seen men ripped to prices, had my own guts cut open, and yet, her invitation dropped out the bottom of my stomach. “Of course.”

Sly, cocky ease. It was the role I played. Like Rhys and his cold, murderous mask in The Court of Nightmares.  Yet, as I felt her hand slip into the crook of my elbow, I feared my abilities to uphold my reputation.

We turned left at the gate, towards The Rainbow. The late summer sun was bright and welcoming on our skin as the heat from the cobblestones warmed our feet through our shoes.  The city was lively around us, filled with people and children going about their days as though nothing had happened.  Laundry wavered between windows down alleyways and fruit stands were stocked full of summer delights.  I hadn’t let myself truly enjoy the gifts of Velaris in a long, long time.  

Beside me, Nesta’s head swiveled from one thing to the next.  Shops, cafes, small children watching her.  I knew the silence between us was good.  _ Great _ even. I'd take silent touching with Nesta any day over her venomous distance. And yet… _ sly cocky ease _ .

“You look nice.”

She shot me a glare with a raised eyebrow.

I paled. “You know, twirly.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Haven't you already learned this lesson?”

Of course I had. Of course I knew the right word. I could think of fifty more to describe the way her peach colored skin looked against the jade fabric of her dress. The remarkable shadow of the neckline on her collarbone.

I eyed her for a moment, assessing. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in the sunlight.  You're beautiful.”

She'd known she was, of course, that was one of the wonderful things about Nesta.  She knew everything about her was true.  Even still, as the words left my lips, she sucked in a small breath. Blossoms of color burned to life high on her cheeks.  “Thank you.”

“And me?” I goaded, jostling her arm in mine. “Do my siphons make me resplendent in the sunlight?”

Nesta studied me silently, her eyes slicing holes right through the armor on my body.  “You're alive,” she said softly, and the words sunk straight into my heart. “I could look at you all day.”

She turned away before she could see my mouth drop. My stomach, my heart, my blood pressure all plummeted to the ground below me.  Sly, cocky ease my ass.  I was done for.

We wandered our way from the townhouse through the colorful streets at an unhurried pace  For a few moments, we stopped at one of the bridges to gaze down at the winding river below.  I watched her hair fall over her shoulder in shining, gold tendrils.  I gripped the stone railing to keep from wrapping one around my finger.

She watched me with a neutral expression, eyes wide and observant. With the light on her skin she looked almost…friendly? I wanted to remember it forever.  “How are you?” she asked.  

“Me?”

“I don’t see anyone else here.”

I chuckled and scratched my jawline with my knuckle.  “I’m all right, I suppose.  There’s a lot to come back from after Hybern.”

Nesta nodded.  “Yes.”

“And you’re feeling better?” I ventured.  I’d do anything to keep her from locking herself in her room again.

Her head dropped back towards the river below, and she stared at the rapids with lazy attention.  “I think so.”

“It’s been boring without you,” I said, smiling.  “No one to keep my ass in line.”

She snorted but we didn’t speak, just watched each other, the cool mist from below drifting upwards to kiss our dangling fingertips.

Eventually she turned away and pushed back from the railing.  “Take me somewhere,” she demanded, gesturing forward. “Feyre said this was her favorite part of the city.”

As we crossed the bridge, I squinted at the colorful tiled buildings around us. “Feyre is an  _ artist. _ She's at home here. All I come here for is the bars.”

Wordlessly, we stopped at a ceramics vendor and I stood off to one side as Nesta wandered through the racks of vases and teapots for sale under a canopy.  Her fingers caressed the detailed paint lines from vase to vase until she came to face me at the edge of the shade line.

She shaded her eyes as she gazed up at my face. “You think I can't handle it?”

“A bar?”  I chuckled and crossed my arms over my chest. “Nesta, I doubt there’s anything you  _ can’t _ handle.  But, at the very least, I feel like I finally owe you some manners.  I’m not going to  take you to a bar on our first venture out of the house.”

She joined me in the street.  “Why not?”

“Well, because you're a lady. It's not right to take you-”

“Would you take  _ Mor? _ ”  Something wicked gleamed in her eye.  That cruel, merciless fire in her heart.

My wings rustled as my defenses went up. “Look, I've known Morrigan for five hundred years. But when we first met, no, I did not take her to a bar.”

“That’s right, you fucked her.”

Red flashed across my vision.  “ _ What did you just say _ ?” I hissed, siphons flaring.  How did she even know that story?

Her eyes narrowed and the muscles in her jaw bulged.  “Are you going to fuck me?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I bellowed.

“Something, apparently,” she spat, tossing her hair over her shoulder and stepping around me, into the sunlight.  “You don’t need to deal with it.  Go away, I’ll wander on my own from here.”

And just like that it was over, as per usual.  One moment she was praising my existence, and the next she was throwing knives at my heart.  To our credit, we’d lasted a good half an hour this time. Perhaps a new record.  I followed her swift footsteps down the street.  “Oh really?”

“Yes,” she said through clenched teeth.  “It was a mistake asking you to come with me.”  She started to walk faster but I grabbed her arm.

“Listen,” I growled, holding her in place.  “This part of you; this angry, hateful indifference?  I like it.  You won’t scare me away by throwing it at me.”  

Her eyes blazed in the sunlight.

“You can call me whatever you want.  Bastard, heartless, asshole, whatever.  I don’t care.  It’s nothing I don’t already know.  But the second you insult my friends, my  _ family _ , we’re through.  I don’t want to play that game.”

She tried to yank her arm out of my hand by I squeezed harder.  “Prick,” she spat.

“Like I said,” I repeated softly.  “Nothing I don’t already know.  Enjoy your day, Emissary.”  I let go of her arm as she ripped it away and walked the opposite way down the street.

 

***

Nesta

 

Not surprisingly, the rest of my afternoon in Velaris was horrible.  I was lost for over an hour until I finally deigned to ask for help.  The shopkeepers practically tripped over themselves giving me directions.  I'd never seen anything like it. In our village in the Human Realm, we were lucky to be given the correct change for goods, let alone a spoken word.  

By the time I was walking in the right direction, Rhys and Feyre were actively looking for me and it was only a matter of moments before Mor materialized at the street corner.

“Oh good,” she sighed when she spotted me.  A warm smile lit up her pretty face.  “To clarify, they weren’t  _ worried _ as much as concerned.”  She raised both palms peacefully.

My chest ached with guilt the moment I saw her.  Of course, she didn’t know what I’d said, the confidence I’d betrayed.  Feyre had told me everything; the hell she’d been through and the shelter the court had offered her.

That, paired with the fact that everyone felt like I would explode any moment I took offense…

I felt chastised by her kindness.

“Thank you for finding me,” I said, eventually.  “I kicked Cassian out of the city.”

She laughed at that, an infectious sound of pure joy.  “Well, it’s about time someone did.  I’m sure he deserved it.”  Mor reached out a hand.

I shook my head before taking it.  “He didn’t.

We watched each other as she winnowed us through the darkness and into the foyer of the Townhouse.  By the time the light of the setting sun touched our skin, she’d cocked her head to one side.  I could see the war behind her eyes; to comfort me, or to find him and offer the same?

“He loves a good apology,” she said, instead.  “Just put together a really thoughtful one.  He’ll be like putty in your hands.”  She she patted my shoulder reassuringly and left me in the doorway with a flourish of her scarlet skirts.

“Wait,” I called after her.

Mor paused just inside the kitchen, one eyebrow raised. So beautiful and still so kind.  What was it about this wondrous place?  Was it immortality that left every fae with so much to give? I had never known such generosity.  

I knew that I would never swallow this guilt without a proper apology, even if she knew nothing of my offense.  “I’m sorry, for...how I was before.  I never meant to come in between your friends and your life here.”

Her stance shifted out of defense, I realized, and she jutted one hip to the side.  Her nails were black today, gleaming in the light of the room.  “You were thrown a bad hand.  I understand that, and I appreciate the apology. I'm sorry too. We fae are so old, sometimes it's hard to deal with change.”  She chewed on another sentence before, “Can I say something?”

“Yes.”

“Be gentle with him.”

I swallowed.  “Him.”

“You know who I mean.  He’s better than every person in this city.  You are my high lady’s sister, and I will protect you.  But he comes before you, I hope you understand.”

My hands clasped nervously over my stomach.  “I do.”

“If you don’t want him, tell him.  Trust me,” she said with a long-suffering sigh.  When she looked up, she wore a sad smile.  “Anyway, we’re headed up to the House in an hour.  Although you might need alternate transport if you’ve banished Cass.”

Rhys made two trips for myself and my sister that night, while Feyre flew herself.  I watched her wingspan waver from side to side, backlit by the evening sunlight.  She was watched ever-faithfully by her mate, who cradled me gently against his chest as we climbed higher and higher.  Ahead, the sandstone walls of the palace beckoned us closer.  The windows reflected the bright yellow sky around us.  As we started our slow descent, my insides sagged heavier and heavier with guilt.

What I’d  _ said  _ to him.  There was no excuse for it.  Had there ever been?  

I had finally managed to invent an excuse for his company, and I’d ruined it with my stupid viper tongue.  In the heat of the moment, would I be able to give him the apology he deserved?

As Rhys landed softly on the landing outside the dining room, I realized I wouldn’t have to worry about Cassian at all.  Despite the elevation and the swirling winds, I could smell everyone in the dining room without looking.  These damned fae senses left nothing to the imagination.  Cassian’s scent was missing, so much so that I could tell he hadn’t been here all day.  He was gone.  My hands balled into fists at my side as I willed away the sharp burning behind my eyes.

Rhys was still beside me.  He leaned close to ask, “Are you all right?”

I nodded off-handedly, appreciating his restraint at what I’m sure he could read in my mind.

He held out an elbow.  “Shall we?  We’re quite pleased to have you back with us.”

This time I lifted my eyes to meet his shocking purple gaze.  I realized at that moment that I had never wanted brother before, and how profoundly grateful I was to have one now.

With a crooked grin, Rhys squeezed my hand against his side.  “And I’m glad to have a sister, Nesta.”

“ _ Busybody _ ,” I hissed.

Through the meal, I did my best to focus on the good I’d encountered today.  The warmth of Mor and Rhys, the joy of my sisters, and all the kindness they shared with each other.  I watched the sun set into the sea and remembered the warmth on my skin from earlier, thought of the delicate tendrils of paint on the teacups at that shop in The Rainbow.

I remembered Cassian’s brilliant, hazel eyes when he saw me standing before him.  The tone of his voice when he’d said I was beautiful.

Guilt ate at my insides, but I enjoyed dinner all the same.  When Mor poured me a glass of red wine with a knowing smile, I indulged her in a sip or two.  I watched the way my sister told animated stories about flying practice and how hard Rhys laughed when she described falling into the lake.  Even Amren, whose newfound normalcy had made her eternally grumpy, was amusing everyone with her sheer rage.  Eventually a smile was plastered on my face too.

I was almost too distracted to notice when he arrived.   _ Almost _ .

I’d grown accustomed to listening for his beating wings whenever he was absent. His wing flaps were stronger and louder than the others.  Brute force through the skies.  And when he landed, he flapped his wings like a great bird of prey to land with precision.  There was no gliding and gentle flying with Cassian.  

He had landed with a  _ thud _ on the landing, and through the windows I watched his hulking frame stride towards the door.  I rushed from my seat at the table and out into the night.

As my slippers clapped on the sandstone patio, He froze and watched me cautiously.  His wings were partially spread, ready for flight.  Worn, scaled leather still covered him from shoulders to toes.  His jet black hair wavered in the wind as he gazed at me.  He was breathtaking.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted before he could brush me aside, or pretend it had never happened.

His eyes widened in surprise.  “That’s...not what I expected to hear from you.”

I took the last four steps that separated us and Cassian outstretched a hand to slide up my arm as I approached.  A cursory caress that seemed to arise out of instinct, and I felt the tremor shoot up his arm as he realized what he’d done.

I didn’t brush him away.  “What I said was horrid.”

His broad chest swelled as he drew in a deep breath.  “Yes, it was.”

I looked away, crushed by my own guilty conscience.  “I tend to do what I can to keep people away.  Even people I care about.  It’s like a bad habit.  I don’t know how to stop it, especially when…”

His head fell to one side as he tried to meet my eyes. “When?”

“When you’re the last person I want to keep away,” I whispered.

A breath slipped out of him.

“Please forgive me.”

His hand slid down my arm to my hand where he twined his fingers with mine.  “I will, on one condition.”

My eyes had fallen to our joined hands where I was cataloging the feeling of the rough tips of his fingers, and the darkness of his skin.  “Of course.”

He tugged our hands so I stumbled closer to him,  _ against _ him.  His other hand slipped around my waist.  This was a test, and I would not fail.  I lifted my chin to meet his eyes, so close, so clear.  His pupils were black. 

“Train with me,” he said and I felt his breath on my cheek.  “Tomorrow.”

“What?”

Cassian arched a brow and my knees shook under my skirts.  The way that crooked smirk curved up his face… “I know it’s not the wardrobe choice anymore.  I’ve seen you wear pants.  How badly do you want me around, sweetheart?”

_ Badly _ .  But the thought of more fighting and more battle made my stomach fill with ice cold dread.

“Very well,” I acquiesced cooly, even if I wanted to tug my hand out of his grip and retreat back into myself.  The mere concept of thrusting a sword at someone seemed to reopen a wound inside me.  I thought of the battle, the Cauldron, Cassian’s bleeding body...

As though he could sense it, his grip on my hand tightened.  His arm around my waist curved further.  Buckles from his leathers pressed uncomfortably into my ribcage, but I could feel every breath of his.  When he spoke, his voice vibrated my very bones.  “We’ll start with the basics.  Ask Feyre.  It’s boring as hell.”

I glared at him.  “Then why have me come at all?”

The resulting smile was worth any pain I would endure the next day.  His eyes seemed to sparkle in the starlight.  “To keep you from pushing me away.”  He released my hand and kept his arm looped around me.  Slowly, ever so slowly, he lowered his head to press a soft kiss to my cheek.  I leaned into it helplessly.  “Let me fly you down later,”  he said, near my ear.  It wasn’t a request.

In another heartbeat he’d released me and strode past me, into the dining room.  I stared ahead at the moonlit city below, heart racing and chest heaving.  Around me, the ghost of his scent floated on the wind, embracing me in the last bit of warmth from his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did quite enjoy writing Nesta blowing it all to hell...but I also enjoyed the soft apology :)
> 
> Training with the General up next. Stay tuned!!


	4. Hard and Soft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is nice and soft you guys. Snuggle up...
> 
> but don't get too comfortable.

#### Hard and Soft

Cassian

 

I was honestly surprised to find Nesta waiting for me in the training ring the next morning.  I hadn’t even specified a time, and yet, here she was.  Either Feyre had tricked her into arriving at six in the morning, or she’d demanded it herself.  She stood against the lowest wall of the training ring, at the edge of the mountain.  Dressed in simple pants and a loose shirt, she was still the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. Above us, the newly risen sun shone bright, not yet warm on the skin.  She turned to watch me as I approached.

We were alone again and I wasn’t sure if I should be afraid, or excited.

Her apology last night had been unexpected, but welcome.  I’d spent the rest of that afternoon beating the shit out of the equipment up here until I couldn’t take any more.  Well, until the _equipment_ couldn’t take any more.  After that I’d flown for hours, simply needing to get away from everything, including the ground.  My healing wing ached in a way that was worrisome.  I’d have to do less flying…

Despite all of that, there was a veil that had lifted between us yesterday, as though the apology had finally built the bridge from her head to mine.  It wasn’t complete, but it was a start.  And when I’d held her last night, with her perfect, warm body pressed against mine…

Best not think of that now.  

She left her perch by the edge to meet me halfway in the ring.  “You’re here,” I purred, joining her in the sunlight

“You’ll find that I don’t disobey orders like my sister.”

My laughter boomed loudly off the edge of the mountain but the sound of it brought a small smile to her face. “We'll see about that.”

She hummed a perfect, precious laugh.  “She did loan me these...clothes, however. She said they'd be appropriate.”  Nesta tugged at the billowy fabric of her blouse, eyeing the way it gapped at her chest.  

Feyre was an evil High Lady.

I cleared my throat as I said, “They'll do.”  Considering now was as good of a time as any, I turned my back to pull my own shirt over my head. Even my non-fae ears could her her sharp intake of breath. I looked over my shoulder and smirked. “Have I offended you, sweetheart?”

Nesta scowled.

“If it's making it difficult for your human sensibilities I can-”

“Piss off. Just get on with it.”

I chuckled again. “If you say so. Stretches first, then two laps around the ring.  Follow my lead.”

The ground remained insanely interesting throughout stretching exercise. I decidedly did _not_ correct her lunge technique. Feyre could do that later. When it came time for her laps, I remained in the center of the ring and fiddled unnecessarily with my gauntlets.

It was all for nothing, however, when she arrived panting at my side. I couldn't hide the look of shock and appreciation on my face as I beheld her flushed cheeks and parted lips. Strands of her straw hair were already falling from her braid.  My fingers itched at my sides, eager to take her into my arms again, to feel the softness of her breasts against my chest.  So much less fabric between us...

“What now?” she said between breaths.

I handed her a canteen and waited while she drank, both for necessity and to scold myself in my head.   _Enough_ , I told myself.   _Your pants are too loose for this kind of thought_.

“A few rules,” I said, clapping my hands together.  “One, trust.  I need you to trust that I’m not going to push you past what I think you can handle.  And I need you to trust that I know what I’m doing.  This isn’t going to be a personal attack.  Understood?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Two, if anything comes up here, “ I tapped my temple with my finger, “that clouds your judgement in any way, you tell me to stop.  Immediately.  Is that clear?”

“Why?” She asked, tilting her head to one side.

“It’s bad leadership for me to push you when your head is not focused.  It’s unsafe and dangerous.  As it is, your body will not thank you tomorrow, but I’ll be damned if something breaks inside your head today.”  I reached forward and cupped a hand around the back of Nesta’s skull. We searched each other’s eyes. “All right?”

“All right.”

I released her and put my hands on my hips.  “Third, I want you to give me everything you have.  Get angry, let it out.  I’m hoping to see if any of that fire magic still lives in your veins, Emissary.”

She opened her hands, palms up, and stared at them.  As though they held the answers to the universe.  Her voice was quiet when she said, “Me too.”

I took the opportunity to grab one of her wrists and start wrapping it with tape.  She watched with rapt attention as I circled the roll around her wrist twice, then her palm, between her thumb and fingers, around, and again.  When I finished the first, and moved on to the second she studied my handiwork.

“What’s this for?”

“Protection.  No use ripping your skin apart if you don’t need to.  You can still form callouses this way.”

“Callouses,” she whispered to herself, clucking her tongue.

I tucked in he last bit of tape and tossed the roll aside, then bent at the waist to press one kiss to her palm.  It was stupid, this whole thing was stupid.  I shouldn’t be teaching her at all, Az should be here instead.  I spoke about rules and leadership, yet here I was teaching the woman I loved how to fight.  Every inch of my body wished to hold her, be near her, protect her.  This was all I could offer her today, and it was all I would allow myself.  

I felt her fingers curve under my chin as I let my lips linger.

“This doesn’t seem very efficient for a fight,”  she teased gently from above.

I smiled against her palm, kissed once more, and rose to my full height.

With wings slightly flared, I held my hands up to my face, wrists out.  Ever observant, Nesta followed suit, and we began.

She was brilliant, because of course she was.  Where Feyre resisted out of necessity, Nesta conceded with intense focus.  Her blocking was already superb, marked by instinct and awareness.  It made sense, really.  Nesta was acutely aware of everything around her.

When we switched to offense, and she began sparring against me, she was excellent at searching for the vulnerable areas.  Even though her strength was laughable, her technique was already proficient.  I made a show of ducking and weaving away from her painfully slow jabs, but she didn’t catch on.  Her brows were pinched with determination, as beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

Eventually I started lecturing. “This isn't about battling past wounds, killing old enemies. This is growing stronger and smarter to prevent it next time.  You may think fae are strong, and you’re not wrong, but here _everyone_ is fae.  There is no advantage except knowledge and skills.”

Her fist smacked hard into my palm.

A surge of pleasure bloomed in my chest.  “Good, Nesta.”

Again and again.

“What do you think about,” she panted, punching a one-two into my opposite hand.  “When you fight?  I saw you on the field.  It was like a dance.”

I motioned for us to switch, and she lifted her fists back to her face.

Slowly, but not without force, I aimed an undercut.  She blocked.

“I have to think about a lot,” I answered, trying again to catch her from the side.  I did, and she stepped away with a grunt.  “But if everything is right, if my lines are in place and my men have the upper hand, I guess it is kind of like a dance.  You’ll see, once we get into swordplay.  There are steps, and rhythms, counters and strikes.  When it all comes together…”  I smiled, and kissed the tips of my fingers.  “Beautiful.”

She blocked a punch, _hard_ and I pulled my hand away.  “You’re strange,” she said, shaking her head.

“Am I?  Some might say I’m _pretty_ good at my job.”

“And full of yourself.”

I laughed, and motioned for a break.  Clever as she was, she did not let down her guard until I backed away.  I nodded appreciatively at her effort.

“You’re a natural. How do you feel?”

She inspected her hands, noting where the tape was starting to fray and discolor from impact.  “I feel...angry.”

“Do you want to keep going?”

Nesta eyed me curiously then looked back at her hands, now balled into fists.

“You won’t hurt me, sweetheart,” I chuckled.

The return scowl had me howling with laughter.  We sparred for another hour, and I moved into early lessons on footwork.  By the end of the morning we were circling each other, using the cover of shade as a reward for having the upper hand.  All in all I was impressed.  

Who was I kidding? I was so impressed that I was on the edge of full blown arousal.  I ended up calling it, before I did something stupid, like kiss her.

Oh how I wanted to kiss her…

“Shall I come back tomorrow?” she asked, as I started unwinding the tape from one of her hands.  

I shook my head.  “Not tomorrow, I’ll be away.”

“Oh.”  

The disappointment in her voice made my wings flare victoriously.  “But the next day, if things go well, I should be back.”

“Very well.”

I released her hand, gently.  “Going to miss me, Emissary?”

For one, blissful moment I saw the truth in her brilliant eyes.   _Yes_.  But as she looked away and massaged her wrists with her fingers, I knew the walls were closing in.  One layer after another manifested between us, and I could practically hear them thud into place.  “Why would I miss such a thorn in my side?”

My eyes rolled into my head.  Instead of pushing it further, I changed the subject.  “Can I fly you up for dinner tonight?”

She responded with a sweet smile.  “If you arrive on time.”

 

***

Nesta

 

Between Cassian’s training, studies with Amren, and state meetings with Rhys and Feyre, I was fit to be tied.  And exhausted.

 _Nesta and no one else_ , my hat.

It was becoming clear that old Nesta had no place in the life I’d made for myself here.  Like it or not, I was not only part of a family, but part of a court that needed me.  And, if I let myself think hard enough, perhaps my presence was important to others.

The thought had made me feel sick and overwhelmed, so I shut it out. I shut everyone out, locked myself in my room and pretended I was alone. For one glorious morning.

The beds in Rhys’ households were heavenly. I had never slept so well in my entire human life. With the window open, the room smelled like summer and sunshine. The sheets magically stayed cool and soft, and I was happy to remain wrapped in them all day.  Through my lashes, I watched shadows from the trees outside play across the ceiling.

I had sent notes to all of my instructors for the day. No response from the others, but Cassian had scribbled back, “ _Oh really?_ ”

So far, he had yet to show up in person to argue, but I half expected him to pound on my door with his blasted roll of tape in his hands.  Alas, it remained quiet.  Just birds, shopkeepers and a distant wind chime floating through my windows.  And my own thoughts...

 _Thump_.

And that noise apparently.

 _Thump_.

I rolled over in bed to face the window, hoping above all that it wasn't a poor unconscious bird in my bedroom. With a shock, I saw a tan-skinned hand clasp around my windowsill. Then another.

I knew, I _knew_ , it was him, and yet I still jumped from the bed and backed against the wall.

His smiling face appeared above his hands moments later. “Aha!” He cried, victoriously as he began pulling himself the rest of the way up. “I was afraid I was going to give Elain the shock of her life.”

My insides quivered with anger and excitement at the same time.  It made me feel sick.  “What,” I demanded, swallowing thickly, “are _you_ doing here?”

He made a series of grunting noises as he maneuvered his long legs through the window without throwing himself backwards by his wings. When his feet at last thudded loudly on the carpet, he was beaming at me.  He placed his arms akimbo and jutted his chest out.  “I wanted to check on you.”

I glared at him. “And you couldn't use the door-”

“Feyre told me you said I could climb through your window.”  He bit down hard on his lip and watched me. Lit from behind, he looked like a fearsome creature. Membranous wings shining bright orange in the sunlight, muscular frame visible under his loose shirt, flashing gems at his wrists. And yet, that smile...

I twisted my lips to hide my own.

He grinned victoriously and took a step towards the bed before leaning down to unbuckle his boots. “So, what are we doing? Napping?” He flopped down loudly on the bed, wings splayed awkwardly behind him.

“We?”

With a confident nod, he folded his hands over his stomach.

“You're in a good mood today,” I stalled, crossing my arms. “Would you like to have a seat?” I pointed over to a pair of chairs across the room. They were perfect for a friendly, _normal_ conversation.

“I'm comfortable, thanks.”

My eyes rolled so hard I made myself dizzy.

Cassian was watching me with very apparent amusement.  He patted the empty half of the bed beside him.  A few feathers fluttered up through his fingers.

My bare feet were locked to the carpet. “If you’re going to stay, I'll just read by the window.”

“Nesta.”

My fingers curled into fists at my elbows. “I'll not share a bed with you, General.”

A pout. “Why not?”

My hand waved dismissively at the mattress. “A lady doesn't do such things.”

“Ah,” he nodded, propping himself up on one elbow. He regarded me through his long, dark lashes. “But you're not a ‘lady’ of the human realm any longer. You're a fae of the Night Court.”

“And so?”

He chuckled. “ _And so_ , you may do as you please.”

“What if I please would not like share a bed with you.”

“I won't bite.”

Something animalistic and low in my stomach sprung to life at his words. The tone of his voice made my skin heat and my knees shake. Only now did I realize I was wearing a nightdress and robe; naked, without any underthings. I snatched the robe over myself.  Could he see, did he know?

His face had turned wicked.  “I'm not going to _fuck_ you, Nesta.”

He said the word - _fuck_ \- slowly, every letter sliding off his tongue and teeth. A call back to my unfortunate misbehavior the other day in the street.  As it often was with him, with _us_ , I could instantly think of nothing else but sex.  His hands on me, and his lips. The weight of his strong body over mine.

We'd been dancing on the edge of something for days. It was so vague I wanted to scream. At peace enough to be friends, gentle enough to be lovers, and yet I was holding back. _Still._

But this?

A day spent hidden away with him, no barriers, no appearances. Despite the scandal it seemed...honest.

I sucked in a short breath to speak, opened my mouth, then snapped it shut.

“What'll it be?” He prodded, still eyeing me with that evil half smile.

Rather than speak, I moved back over to the bed and slipped under the sheets as though he wasn't there. “Touch me and I'll chop your prick off,” I hissed as he rolled onto his side to face me.

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

We watched each other quietly in acknowledgement of our strange agreement. Cassian, Lord of Bloodshed, in my bed. He seemed so out of place in this room. It was all cool blues and purples with gold trim and delicate paintings. He was dark and violent, straight out of The Court Of Nightmares. He was dressed more simply than I had ever seen him outside of the training ring. Twill trousers and a gauzy white linen shirt. Three buttons were left undone, revealing the panes of his chest and the winding black lines of his tattoos.

“Did they hurt?” I said it without thinking, my eyes still glued to the sliver of his revealed skin. It had always been all or nothing with him. Leathers and armor, or nothing at all.  Somehow both options still seemed like armor.  But this...this delicate and vulnerable triangle of skin seemed like a peace offering.  A gift - to me.

He looked down to follow my eyes then tugged at the collar of his shirt. “The tattoos?”

I nodded.

“Yes, they hurt.”

I'd seen all of them over the course of our training together; one continuous maze of swirling lines covering his broad shoulders and chest.  They curled under his biceps and formed runes under his arms.  Down his back, and between his wings were words in a foreign language that I hadn’t yet learned.

“It's been a gradual process, over the last five hundred years.”

I met his eyes, intense and golden. “Do they mean something?”

He settled back into the mattress, pressing the palm of his pinned arm to his cheek. “Battles, war, the dead and the victorious. It's an Illyrian tradition to commemorate battles with ink.”

“Then,” I swallowed, “it appears you have seen a great many battles.”

Cassian nodded. “Enough for a lifetime, I'd say.”

On its own accord, my hand was reaching across the void that separated us. I laid one finger on the skin at his throat, where a dash of ink pointed upwards. He froze. His skin was like a warm fire; simmering heat under the surface. My finger lowered, tracing the line down and across until I felt the hard dip of his collar bone.

With a pained shudder, he gripped my wrist, hard.

“Touching,” I warned him.

“You should follow your own rules.” His voice was low and dripping with desire. I drew my finger back from his skin but he held my wrist in place.

This was familiar, and still grey territory. Our hands, clasped, entwined, pressed to lips and skin. I made the decision myself, this time. I wanted to spread my palm over his chest through his shirt and feel every inch of his skin.  Feel the muscle and scars.  But that would lead us down a path we weren’t ready for.  Not yet.

Slowly, I tugged our hands until they settled between us on the mattress. His grip relaxed and shifted to he could curve his long fingers around my hand.

We both watched entranced as fingers moved and tendons bulged. Dark skin over my pale skin, newly marred with matching blisters and bruises.

“Cassian,” I said.

He watched the slow progress of his thumb across my knuckles. “Yes.”

“Will you really stay here all afternoon?”

The corner of his mouth pulled up on one side.  His hazel eyes flicked up. “Until you kick me out.”

“I haven't ruled it out.”

“I may still touch you. Then you'd have grounds.”

Our eyes locked.

Then slowly, almost painfully, we withdrew our hands from the center of the bed and tucked them away.

He watched me for a long moment before saying, lightly, “I was hoping for a nap actually.”

He’d cut the tension with one sentence.  I was profoundly grateful for the distraction.  “Really.”

“Oh, yes. I find that I nap better in strange places.”

“How inconvenient.”

He winked. “Is it?”

Even though I’d never shared a bed with a man before, it felt unnatural to be this far apart.  From where I lay, I could feel the warmth of him and I ached for it.  How many times had I imagined the feeling of his body wrapped around mine in this bed.  The hard wall of his chest against my back, the tight grip of his strong arms around my body.  Sometimes I woke up convinced it was real.  For minutes I’d remain frozen, afraid that if I moved, he’d leave me.

He seemed to be dealing with the same struggle.  I watched his throat bob and his chest rise with a deep intake of breath.

I shouldn’t have let him stay.

I closed my eyes to shut away the sight of him and the temptation.  I could feel his eyes on me, hear his slow even breathing, and I wondered what he saw.  Did he still want this Nesta?  Bare, vulnerable, soft.

When I opened my eyes next, his were closed.  His lips had parted slightly and his wings were limp at his back.  I watched him as he slept, tracing the lines of his tattoo where they slipped under his shirt until my eyes fell closed too.

I wasn’t sure how long we slept, shrouded in my peaceful bedroom away from the world.  No one bothered us, no one dared.  When my eyes fluttered open, he was where I’d left him; with his eyes closed, his face peaceful and happy.  He was...beautiful.

The light had shifted in the room from bright morning to warm afternoon.  The heat was drifting in from the window like an extra blanket.  I should shut it, but leaving the bed didn’t seem like an option.  Once I did, this moment would be over, and we’d be back to our bickering uncertainty.

I pulled myself up on my elbow to see him better.  I’d never been able to really _look_ at him like this.  With his eyes closed, I could see his long, dark lashes.  He had a scar that cut his right eyebrow in half.  I reached forward to touch it.

His nose was chiseled and strong, and I touched that too, dragging a finger down the bridge.  Sharp cheekbones sloped down to a square jaw, tinted dark with stubble.  It scratched against my fingers as I moved them around to his chin.  It was clefted softly in the middle.  Then his lips…

...were smiling.

My hand snapped away as though scalded, but Cassian was faster.  He grabbed my wrist, tugged, and kept tugging, until I had crawled across the mattress and fallen ungracefully at his side.

“Deal’s off it seems,” he mumbled, sleepily as he tucked me neatly in the crook of his shoulder.  

I had no words to offer him, no snide, emotionless response.  If I could, I’d still be tracing lines across his face and skin.  The tips of my fingers were burning.  Nestled at his side, bodies pressed together, I was getting exactly what I’d ached for over the last few weeks.

“Don’t say anything,” he pleaded, pressing his lips to my hair.  He breathed in deep and tightened his arms.  “Just...don’t.”

I wouldn’t.  I _couldn’t_.  In answer I draped my arm across his chest.  His heartbeat thundered under my palm.

The next time we woke, he was pulling himself out from under me with his characteristic gentleness.  I kept my eyes shut tight, too afraid to face the last several hours we’d spent together.  The air was cool against my skin where moments before Cassian had been.

“I’ll see you tonight, Nes,” he said softly, before leaving through the door in a rush of warm air.

I reached over and pulled a pillow to my chest.  Damn us both to the Cauldron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you kindly for all of the wonderful feedback and support for this fic!
> 
> A very large thank you to my love and creative sidekick [NoBaggage](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NoBaggage/pseuds/NoBaggage) for reading through my stuff and keeping me honest.


	5. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What good is life without [other] friends?
> 
> Also known as: "My Attempt At Redeeming Mor As A Character"
> 
> And: "Amren Secretly Loves Drama"

#### Friends 

Cassian

 

The Court of Nightmares was always an unpleasant experience.  The smell, the temperature, the sounds.  Every single part of it.  The court was as intended - a nightmare.  Even the stone carvings on the walls were depicting various acts of torture or dismemberment.  Currently, I was staring down some sort of ghoul, carved with realistic detail into the relief across from me.

Mor was stiff as a statue at my side, dressed in bright red, despite Rhys’ advice to do otherwise.  She wore it to feel strong, to feel like herself, to remember what she had at home with us.  The bright patches of her skin shone like the moon in the darkness all around us.

We stood in shadow, out of sight, in a narrow hallway between a banquet room and the open throne room.  Our meeting had just concluded; a particularly gruesome encounter with Keir and his retinue. I was holding Mor’s hand tightly, squeezing endlessly to still her shaking fingers.  I glanced down at her face where she stared fixedly at the wall across from us.

“Are you going to be all right?” I asked, lifting our hands between us.  Our fingers shifted and interlaced.

She looked up at me, warm brown eyes lacking their usual luster.  “I hate him,” she whispered.

I pressed our hands to my chest.  “I know.”

She gave herself another minute, another few breaths and another handful of heartbeats.  I stood silently by her side, guarding her with my body and a faint red shield that hid us from view.  When we left this hallway, we needed to become The Morrigan and Lord of Bloodshed.  There would be no hand holding or whispering, no comforting my oldest and dearest friend.

“We need to stay for a while longer,” she said, loosening slightly.  She rolled her shoulders.  “If we leave now it will be too obvious.”

“Should we get a drink?”

Her smile didn’t touch her eyes but it was better than nothing.  “Yes.  Let’s go.”

She released my hand, and I let my shield flicker out.  Again, the rustling of voices and nightmares curled around us.  It was simple white noise, but somehow it _felt_ like the sound of dragging chains and scraping knives against my ears.  I steeled myself against it, stood up straighter and spread out my shoulders.  

Mor left the alcove first, striding confidently into the grey light of the throne room with her skirts waving behind her like banners.  I followed with an angry swagger.  I fixed my brow and stared at onlookers, as though I could snap them in half with a wave of my hands.

I _could_...but that wasn’t the point.

We entered the gathering hall at the far edge of the court, where various courtiers gathered to drink and mingle.  As Mor’s dress drew the attention of the entire room, half of the patrons left, and the rest sneered back at us.  “Get out,” she hissed.

I spread my wings and stood beside her.  There was no argument.

When the room had cleared, we strolled purposely to the largest booth at the back of the room.  It was one of our favorite inside jokes.  Steal the largest, grandest table for just the two of us and our drunken antics.  Because, oh yes, we would be getting drunk.  

We sat a good distance apart, watching each other with hints of amusement.  I spread my arms along the back of the upholstered bench.  The attendants didn’t ask what we wanted.  The brought us two shallow glasses and a tray of half-consumed liquor bottles.  Our personal stash.

“What’ll it be, my lady?” I asked, once we were alone again.  

“Clear,” she said, gesturing to a bottle.  “And pour a double, please.”

I filled her glass with a sizeable amount, then poured my own.  We clinked glasses and each took long sips.

She let her head fall back against the wall and stared up at the massive vaulted ceiling where more scenes of torture wound around the pillars overhead.  “That helps, a little,” she sighed, eyes falling closed.

I was watching her cautiously, inspecting for any crack in her armor.  It hurt to be near her during times like this.  She was practically an extension of my own body at this point and watching her suffer was agony.

I wondered if she could tell how much I was suffering too?

I’d been hiding myself from Nesta ever since the afternoon in her bedroom.  It had been a bad idea, of course, but when had that ever stopped me?  My shirt still smelled of her soft sheets and warm skin.  I had memorized the sight of her sleeping face and the slope of her shoulder in the mattress…

Pulling her into my arms had felt so _right_.  The way her head fit against my shoulder?

The harder I tried to know her better, the deeper I fell into dangerous territory.  While I was positive that she cared about me, our future seemed to get murkier and murkier with each passing day.  

Our training sessions had turned serious as her skill level improved.  She was amazing, a natural born fighter with fantastic instincts.  We still met most mornings, but half the time she was so focused, it was like we were strangers.  Proud as I was of her progress, it wasn’t what I’d been hoping for when I started the exercise.  I had wanted _time_.  To learn about her, and watch her move, while we learned to speak as friends and laugh together.  As it stood, at the end of the day, my skin was bruised too; from her physical punches and her verbal lashings.

I was beginning to wonder how much more I could take.

Nesta’s outburst in Velaris on our first outing together, was still eating at the back of my mind.  Her reaction to Mor and her assumptions about our relationship were warranted.  Mor and I had both been cowards for far too long.  This was a conversation that needed to happen, and now was as good of a time as any...

“Mor,” I said, softly.  Even still, it seemed to echo in the empty room.

She turned her head to the side to acknowledge me.  “Hmm?”

“I need to talk to you.”

She lifted her head, took another sip and sighed, loudly.  “I know.  I’ve been waiting for this for a while.”

I sighed too.  “It’s time to stop.”

She nodded, sadly.  “Yes.”

We’d been lovers only once, long, _long_ ago, but we’d both left something behind that night.  A piece of our hearts, perhaps.  Ever since then, we’d been tied to each other, one way or another.  Never intimate, but dancing along the edge.  I didn’t _want_ to kiss her, but I would if she leaned in.  I was too protective of her, too trusting, to close.  It had never really mattered before, but it did now.

“Nesta?” she asked, gently.

The pain that had been building steadily in my chest of the last month cracked a little more.   _Nesta_ …

“Yes.”

Mor swirled the remaining contents of her glass around slowly.  “Did you guys figure it out?”

A dry, humorless laugh left my lips.  “No.”

She arched a brow.  “And you’re not ready to give up yet?”

I gave her a withering look.  “It’s taken us five hundred years to acknowledge our own problems.  You think I should give up on Nesta after a few _months_?”

An eyeroll.  “You sensitive, Illyrian men…”

“Don’t start, Mor.  Not now.”

It was quiet for a moment.  “And you love her.”  It wasn’t a question.

The ache in my chest intensified.  “Yes.”

“It’s written all over your face,” she said, kindly.  It was the warmest I’d heard her voice since we came to this foul place, hours ago.  “She’s been better lately.  Nicer?”

I slid my fingers into my hair and looked down at my glass between my elbows.  “It’s been a slow process.  Things are…”

She watched me, waiting for an answer, and instead I folded my arms on the table and hid my face.  Her laugh made me smile.

“So they’re going well.  That’s good.”  She pat my arm, and refilled my glass.  “I apologized to her, a few weeks ago.  I owe you one too.”

I sat up and scrubbed my face with my hand.  “For what?”

“For being jealous, when I clearly have no right to be.  For not giving her a chance.”

We watched each other.

“What you and I have is...more than I had ever hoped from most people in my life.  I’d say that I’ll always love you, but you were never really mine to love.  And while I don’t know that _she_ deserves you, you certainly deserved to be loved by someone you deem worthy.”

I reached across the table to take her hand.  She smiled at me, warm and bright and so very _Mor_.

“I’m sorry Cassian, truly.  I won’t stand in your way anymore.  I want your happiness.”

I squeezed her hand.  “And I yours…”  Squinting, I added, “Speaking of, when are you going to tell Az?”

With her other hand, she’d raised the glass back to her lips.  “Tell him what?” Her voice was loud and magnified by the crystal in her hands.

“I thought we were being honest…”

She groaned and slammed the glass on the table.  “Fine.”

“Well…?”

“That I don’t love him or that I…” her voice faded out and she picked at the table with her fingernail.

“The second one.”  I lowered my chin on my hand.

“How do _you_ even know that?”

“By the Mother, Mor,” I cried.  “I’m a male, not an animal!  I have _eyes_. And ears, and all the other parts.  We’ve been friends for five hundred years.”

“And…?”

“And…” I smirked at her, “I’ve never picked up a single female from Rita’s in all that time.  Isn’t that a _little_ weird?”

She snorted into her glass and drained it.  “Define weird?”

“Shut up.”

Slowly, she set the cup back on the table and I watched her face turn sad and weary.  Our beloved Morrigan, the best friend any fae could ask for, so free and giving with her affections, and yet…

“It’ll kill him,” she whispered.  “Cass, he’ll never forgive me.”

“He will.”

She shook her head slowly.  “I’m terrified.”

“Yeah, well.  Join the club,” I huffed.

On cue, we both reached for another bottle and filled our glasses.  

“To finding true happiness?” she offered, hopefully.

“Sure.”

 

***

Nesta

 

“You need a drink, girl,” Amren said, flopping gracefully into the armchair beside mine.  I’d hidden myself in the house for most of the afternoon.  Without an Illyrian to fly me down to the townhouse, I didn’t see a reason to leave until after dinner.  I’d been blessedly alone for hours now.

I narrowed my eyes at the tiny fae, watching me curiously from across the rug.  “In the library?” I shook my head. _Blasphemy_.

Her eyeroll was palpable even as I continued reading the book in my lap.  “Or you could _leave_ the library and be a social being…?”

“Oh, like you?”

She groaned loudly and threw her arms in the air.  “I didn’t say I was blameless in this scenario, I’m just saying.  You’re wound up so tight I’m afraid you’re going to wring yourself out.  Come relax.”

Through my teeth, “I _am_ relaxed.”

Amren snorted.  “Clearly.”

With my last fraying nerve, I slammed the ancient manuscript closed in my lap.  “If I agree, will you leave me alone?”

Her eyebrows rose slowly as she eyed me from her chair.  “No, obviously.  That’s the point of drinking together.  Not being alone…?”

I stared down at my hands where the rested on top of the leather bound cover.

“Come on, girl,” Amren said, rising to her feet and gesturing for the door.  “You can tell me all about Cass and his muscles and how good of a lover he is, and I promise not to say a thing.”

My head snapped up.  “I’m not talking about that.”

“Well fine. You don’t have to tell me about the size of his dick or anything but-”

“I’m _not_ talking about that.  And we’re not.  Cassian and I aren’t...”

She placed her hand on her tiny hip and pointed down at the ground, as though I was a dog and I would follow her command.  I did anyway, leaving the book behind on the cushion.  She looped her arm through mine to lead me out of the room and down the hallway to the main sitting room.

“Don’t you ever want to talk about all this to someone?  You can, you know.  I’ve secretly always wanted to be the one Mor and Az go to when they deal with their drama.  Could you imagine all the things I’d know?”

I stared evenly ahead.  “No.”

She groaned again and stopped us dead in the hallway.  Behind her, cloudy evening sunlight filtered through the windows and onto the carpet.  “Look, I’m putting myself out here for you, Nesta.  You and I are cut from the same, angry cloth.  I’m not the kind of being who wants a lot of friends.  I’m not the kind of being who wants to _speak,_ let alone gab.”

A smile tugged on my lips.  She had a point.

“You can talk to me about Cass, about all of it.  I won’t tell a soul.”

Rather than speak, I jutted out my elbow once more.  She grinned and slung her arm through it.

The light in the sitting room was muted and soft from the fading sunlight.  An open window wafted in a humid breeze from the city below.  As Amren pranced off to pour the drinks, I stopped by one of the windows to gaze out.  My arms wrapped around my torso and squeezed.  I hadn’t seen Cassian in what felt like days.  We’d sparred silently yesterday morning before he and Mor headed to The Court of Nightmares for a meeting.  Ever since the afternoon in my room things had been...different.

His eyes had been dull and sad.  None of that jovial, flirtatious gleam was left.  Had I extinguished it at last?  Was he done with me?

That afternoon had been out of some sort of dream.  His body, the warmth of his skin, the press of his lips to my hair…

Now that I was finally unwinding, had he given up?

A goblet full of pale pink wine raised itself in front of my face.  I took it gently and sniffed.  Fruity, floral and sweet.  Armen touched the rim of her glass to mine and they made a sound like a bell.

“Rhys keeps bottles of this stuff up here for me.  It’s perfect for summer.  Come.”

The rest of the bottle was in a silver bucket of ice on a low coffee table.  I followed her to a plush lounging sofa and sank down slowly, thoughts still lingering on Cassian’s sad, drawn face.

“Okay,” she said, lowering herself onto a pile of pillows.  “Spill.”

This was uncharted territory for me.  I drummed my fingers on the stem of my glass.  “There’s nothing to spill…”

“ _That_ is not true.  Cassian sacrificed his bloody life for you.  Explain.”

I turned my face away.  “I don’t know why he did that.”

“Yes you do.”  

She pointed at the glass in my hand and I took a small sip.  It was delicious.  Crisp and cold.  “Well, I sacrificed my life for his, too.”

“It’s a good thing you both didn’t die, I’d say.”  She winked.

I turned the conversation back on her.  It was polite to chat with friends this way, wasn’t it?  “And what about you and Varian?  Has he set up a room for you in the summer court yet?”

Amren waved a hand and studied the rings on her fingers.  “Oh he did that months ago just in case.  He’s terribly prepared and sweet.  It’s annoying.”

We laughed softly into our glasses.

“I didn’t think I would find someone,” she said, staring out the window.  “I didn’t think my fae body wanted that, you know?”

I huffed into my glass.   _I knew_.

“It’s one thing to be here with all of you, who have always treated me like a normal being.  Like an equal.  But with him...it’s like he saw more than that.”  Her striking eyes turned back to me.  “Do you feel like that too?”

A nod.

Amren’s eyes narrowed.  “I know you don’t know Cassian as well as the rest of us do, but you should know, he isn’t like this with everyone.”

“Like what, exactly?  Insufferable and clingy?”

She set down her glass on the table and tucked one of her legs under the other.  “Attentive, quiet, sweet.  He watches you.  All the time.”

I had hoped that every time I caught his eye it wasn’t a coincidence.  That we sought each other out just as frequently.  There was comfort in his golden eyes.

“If I didn’t know better,” she mused, tapping her lip.

I took a nervous sip of my wine.  “What?”

“No, nothing.”

“ _Say it,”_ I hissed.

“Fine.   _If I didn’t know any better_ , I’d say you were mated.”

My throat closed up.   _No_.

“But,” she lifted her hands up, “I don’t know for sure.  It’s hard to tell until...you know.”

“Until when?” My voice sounded strangled and I guzzled another mouthful of wine.

She scrunched up her nose.  “Until you actually _mate_.”

Something inside my stomach twisted sickeningly.  I blew out a shaky breath.  “So I’m to leave the fate of my heart to one night in bed?”

She didn’t seem to hear me.  “Are you seriously telling me you guys haven’t slept together yet?  You _reek_ of each other.”

My hand was shaking as I set the glass down on the table.  Out. I needed to get out.  “I can’t do this.”

“You’d better buck up, girl.  You think this is the easy part?”

“Of a relationship?”

She snorted.  “Of _life_ .  You have to own every bit of it if you’re going to spend a lifetime here.  Cassian or not, what do _you_ want?”

I shot to my feet.  “Air.  I want air.”  Around us the faerie lights had been lit, morphing the cloudy evening into a warm glow.  Outside, the sun was close to setting and the sky was a brilliant twilight blue.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Thank you for the wine,” I stammered, stepping around the sofa.  I didn’t quite pick up her apology as I stumbled out the open door and onto the landing.  Inside, my body felt like it was going to explode, like the feelings in my heart and the thoughts in my head would fight each other to the death.  The two things I wanted more than anything were warring inside me.  

Freedom.  The very thing I never had in the human realm.  In this new life, I’d been granted freedom merely because it was a right.  I had a job, a home, a _life._  

Then, of course, there was Cassian; the only other desire I’d brought with me into this fae life.  He too made me feel free, as though I could be myself and still hold value.  Even on my coldest, quietest days, he made me feel wanted.

And now…

What if that was all due to fate?  What if we were mated?

What if everything my heart was telling me was a trick of this new body.  That some unknown god or magic had decided my partner for life.  Could I accept that?   _Would_ I?

Tears stung my eyes as I threw myself at the railing on the landing.  It slammed into my ribs and I gasped over the edge to stare down the side of the mountain.

This body was mine.  I would will it to do as I wished.

But my heart?  My feelings for Cassian?  Did they belong to me?

I swiped the tears from my cheeks and looked out to the distant sliver of the sea, sparkling bright in the setting sun.  In a way, I hated how much I loved this place.  I’d never been truly content to be _anywhere_ , and now, just when I thought I had it all…

In the next heartbeat I could feel him nearby, _smell_ him.   _Cassian_.  I took a slow breath with my eyes closed.  Leather and the musky scent of male skin.  My heart thumped heavily in my chest.  Everything in my body was tuned to him, telling me to find him.

I kept my hands clasped tightly to the iron railing and I watched my knuckles turn white as I waited.  It didn’t take long before I felt him step behind me.  I knew he would come find me.  A wall of heat at my back, the gentle sound of rustling wings.

“Amren said you were upset.”

A calloused and gentle hand lay itself softly on my shoulder.  With his thumb, he rubbed the skin at the back of my neck.  It was the first time he’d touched me in days.

“What’s wrong?”

The sweetness of his voice, and the genuine concern was almost too much to bear.

He leaned closer, so that his nose was pressed to the side of my head, breaths fanning over my cheek.  “Nesta?”

In a rush of breath, I turned myself into him, burying my face in his chest.

“Hey…” he cooed, wrapping his other arm around me and sliding fingers into my hair.  “It’s all right, sweetheart.  You’re safe here.”

I wondered what he meant by ‘here.’  In Velaris, with the court?  In his arms?

The leather over his chest tonight was worn suede and I pressed my cheek to it.  Under my ear I could hear his heart beating steadily.  I timed my breaths to it.  In, out.  In, out.  His body felt relaxed, as though he too had been waiting for a moment like this.

The burgeoning night around us was shut out by his wings, cocooning us in privacy and warmth.  I looked up at him, heart aching under my bodice.  He watched me silently, his bright eyes wide with worry, and his hands soft on my body.

I had never wanted this before; comfort, embrace.  The thought of having it with anyone else besides him made me sick.

“Take me home, please.” I whispered.

He ran two fingers under each eye to wipe away any lingering dampness.  “Anything you want.”

I hid my face in his neck and wrapped my arms around him as he lifted me to his chest.  I hardly even noticed as he jumped into the sky.  The swoop of gravity was nothing in comparison to the turmoil inside my body.

He said nothing about how tightly I was holding him.  In fact, he said nothing at all, just held me close as we flew into the dark sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my lover [NoBaggage](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NoBaggage/pseuds/NoBaggage) for keeping me honest and my words clear.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Your comments made me so happy last week! Can't wait to share the rest with you!


	6. Breakthroughs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps Nesta isn't the only one keeping her cards close to her chest.
> 
> A big chapter for our favorite characters. Hold tight.
> 
> This picks up right at the end of the last chapter.

####  Breakthroughs

#####  Cassian

 

The roof of the townhouse was deserted when we arrived, and I hoped that she’d give me just a few more minutes.  I wasn’t ready to say goodnight just yet.  Something was going on inside that beautiful head of hers and I was intent on finding out what.

She stepped out of my arms and wandered over to the sitting area facing the city.  Below, the nightlife of Velaris was starting.  I could hear the laughter and music from the various dance halls, and the clink of glassware from nearby restaurants.

Nesta was fiddling with her fingers as she gazed, unseeingly out into the city.

“Do you want to tell me what's wrong?” I asked, holding my ground.  “Did Amren say something?”

She turned to face me with a look of despair.  “Nothing I didn’t already know.”  She sunk down into one of the small, iron chairs Rhys kept up here.

My stomach started roiling, but I moved closer to her anyway.  She watched me quietly, eyes bright.

“And what was that?”

With a shuddering sigh, she dropped her head in her hands.  “My whole experience with this life -  _ fae life _ \- has been forced on me.  Being Made, living here, battle, all of it.”

I felt the weight of guilt as she spoke and sunk down into the chair beside her.  I knew apologizing for what she had become was pointless.

“I  _ need _ to choose my own way.  I need that freedom.  When it’s taken away from me I rebel.  I push everyone and everything away.”  Her eyes were sad as she watched me.  “But with you…”  They fell closed and she slumped slightly in her chair.

I reached out to place a hand on her knee.

“With you there’s nothing but freedom.  You’ve never forced me to do anything, and yet... I’m afraid.”

I felt as though my stomach wound had opened back up.  “Nesta…”

“I’m still afraid of you, and what you can do.  To others and...to me.  I’m afraid of how strongly you feel for me, and if I can care for you that much in return.”

My head was shaking.  “You don’t have to-”

She laid one hand over mine, a plea for me to keep quiet.  “I’m afraid of intimacy and if I can...give that to you.”  Her cheeks were flushed in the darkness of night.  “But most of all, I’m afraid of the mating bond.”

I sat back in my chair.  “The mating bond?”

“Yes.”  As though the intimacy of our contact were finally too much, she shot to her feet and walked towards the edge of the railing.  “The absence of choice in who or  _ what _ I spend the rest of my life with holds me back from all of it.  From you.”

“Nesta,” I sighed.

She whirled around.  “No! I refuse to be a part of this disgusting, archaic ritual of your people.  It’s unfair.”

I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes.  “You won’t be.”

She continued on.  “How do you know? No one seems to know. On this whole ridiculous island-”

“ _ I know. _ ”

Nesta pressed her lips together and stood up straighter.  Alert.

“I know because I’ve already met my mate.  And I rejected her.”

A stumbling step forward, towards me.  “ _ What _ ?”

I stood slowly.  “A female Illyrian warrior.  We met just after Feyre got here.”  The memory tugged unpleasantly at the back of my heart.

“Why did you reject her?”  She took another step, leaving just an arm's length between us.  Talking about this made me want her closer, made me feel like she’d disappear in an instant.  I wondered if perhaps Nesta felt the same way.

“The bond often chooses poorly.  Some fae are able to sense it before acting on it, others are unlucky.  Rhys’ parents were ill-matched, and there have been many others.  What Rhys and Feyre have is rare.  When I saw the woman, Milandra, I knew it would never be a true match.  We met during inspection, and never said a word.  I saw her, and then I felt it.  Tied right to my heart, like a thread made of steel.”

I placed a cursory hand over my chest and pressed down.

“I’d seen Rhys and Feyre at that point.  We could smell it all over him, feel it in his mind.  He was a mess, they both were.  It was hard to watch them.  I didn’t want that, not with a stranger.”

“And Milandra, is she...awful?”

We’d come together by the railing now, hands clasped over the ironwork side by side.  “No,” I said, shaking my head sadly.  “She is a great warrior; strong, independent, intelligent.  Beautiful, as any other Illyrian woman, but she wasn’t for me.  I was confident that she hadn’t sensed it between us.  So, I let it go.  I left her and the camp and came back to Velaris, only to be flown over the wall to a manor in the woods, where a viper waited in the foyer.”

Nesta’s head whirled towards me.

“And I knew, the moment - the  _ moment - _ I saw your face that I had made the right choice.  That thread tied to my heart was cut, and I haven’t thought of that Illyrian woman since.”

I stepped into her space and pressed my body to hers.  The warmth of her skin seeped through my leathers.  “I hope you’ll forgive me if I’ve already made my choice in the matter, but my decision means nothing without yours.  You choose whether you want me, Nesta Archeron.  You choose.”

Her eyes were shining with unshed tears as her head shook from side to side.  “Cassian…”

I reached for her, to cradle her pretty face in my hands.  My voice was soft as I said, “In our court, it’s about choice.  You will always have that.”

In a bare whisper, “And if I meet my mate some day?  What then?  I’ll be ripped away from you and a life we’ve built?  I couldn’t bear it.”

My heart broke at the thought.  “We’ll never know.  It’s a risk you need to decide to take.  But, like Elain, you retain the right to decline the bond.  And if your potential mate is not as respectful as Lucien seems to be, then you have us to protect you.”

Her lip was trembling and I brushed my thumb over it.  She froze.

It was probably stupid, especially considering what we’d just discussed, but it seemed inevitable.  With the starlight on her face and the moon in her eyes I was helpless. She was everything I'd ever wanted and she didn't even know.

With aching slowness, I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers.   _ Just once _ , I promised myself.  Her lips were soft under mine,  _ so soft.  _   I curled my fingers around her jaw, hoping,  _ praying _ that I hadn’t just ruined everything.  Then, in that moment that exists between two heartbeats, when lovers decide to pull away or keep going - she kept going.

Her hands slid over my chest and up where her fingers pressed against my neck.  Carefully, as though I was a delicate mortal, I felt her finger on my pulse point, then on my jaw

I didn’t dare move or pull away.  Everything was finally laid out before us and I refused to back away like a coward.  Twice more her lips pressed to mine, each time slower and more deliberate.  The second time, Cauldron boil me, I broke my promise.  In a rush of breath, I cradled the back of her head with my palm and kissed her back.  Opened my lips and breathed her in.

A sigh escaped her as she threaded her fingers into my hair and let me deepen the kiss.  When my tongue swept over her lips, I wondered if I was already dead; if this perfect rooftop kiss was a figment of my imagination.  That, if I opened my eyes, I’d be alone in my room, remembering something that had never happened.  I clutched her to me.  

We broke apart as slowly as we started with our noses dragging along cheeks.  I nearly choked at the look in her eyes.  Dark pupils, raw desire, the  _ fire _ that burned so brightly underneath.

“Armen said we were mates,” she said.  “Up at the House.”

My hands were still on her face, thumbs moving over the faint freckles on her cheeks.  “I figured it was her fault.”

My instincts were telling me to kiss her again, to wrap her in my arms and kiss her senseless until the others flew down.  Maybe even then, we’d still be busy, and all those other idiots could fuck off…

As romantic scenarios flashed through my mind, I watched her eyes shutter.  Perhaps it was the wild look on my face, or the wind on her skin, reminding her of the here and now.  It was too soon to end this moment between us.

I had to tell her.

“Nesta, I…”

She pressed a finger to my lips and continued to watch me.  Her head shook ever so slightly.

I had taken things too far, but Nesta, Mother bless her, was holding herself together for me. The fear sparked behind her eyes but she stood fast, and silent in my arms. I decided to trust her, even though my heart begged for conclusion.

“You should go up to dinner,” she said.  Her voice was so soft, I felt as though she might topple over if I didn’t hold her tighter.

Dinner was the last thing I wanted.  I’d been entertaining my family for five hundred years, but I’d give anything to stay here on this rooftop for an eternity.  I thought about the kiss and the trust she’d shown me.  Now it was my turn to return the favor.  I chewed on my tongue, swallowed down my confessions of love for this female, and softened my hands where they gripped her.  For tonight, this would be enough.

“Will you be all right?” I asked, instead.

She snorted.  “I  _ am _ capable of taking care of myself, General. I’ve done it all my life.”

It was meant to be a tease, and I was glad for it.  I smiled.  “Of course, Emissary.”  I let my hands fall from her shoulders, one by one.  The separation was a new kind of agony.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.  “For telling me everything.  For...all of it.”

Her pale lips were flushed and swollen and her hair was wild.  It was like the memory of our kiss was everywhere.  Without thinking, I lifted my hand to touch the burst of pink on her cheek, then paused an inch away.  

After everything we had shared tonight, my hesitance had coaxed a smile to her beautiful face.  She reached for my fingers where they still hovered beside her, and pulled them the rest of the way to her skin.  With a slow turn of her head, she kissed the inside of my palm.  

“Until tomorrow, Cassian.”

With one last smile, she turned and headed for the door into the townhouse.  I watched her descend the stairs before I found my voice.  “Goodnight.

 

***

#####  Nesta

 

I couldn’t sleep that night.

I was haunted by memories of Cassian’s confession, his hands on me, his lips…

With shameless hope, I left my windows wide open.  The curtains streamed in the warm breeze that filled the room and the stars sparkled outside, but no Cassian at my window.

Of course, it was better that way.  I had no idea what I would have done, had he presented himself in all his beautiful glory in my window frame.  I yearned for him to be near, for the low timbre of his voice to rumble in my ear, and for his lips to kiss me again.  Would I have offered myself?  Is what what I wanted after all?

As dawn light splashed along the walls, I dressed and walked the streets of the city.  The cobblestone streets were still damp from morning dew and the alleys smelled pleasantly of wet stone.  I watched the waking citizens of Velaris as a distraction.  They opened their fruit stands and restaurants, watered their flowers and greeted the day with familiar ease.  Eventually, I sat at a cafe and sipped coffee with my eyes pinned to the top of the flat mountains overhead.

_ Cassian _ .

Where did we go from here?

It had been agony to leave him last night.  I had wanted to kiss him more, to soak in the comfort of his broad chest and welcoming arms, but something inside had frozen me.  That  _ old _ Nesta in my heart was pushing me away and alone into the darkness.  I could only fight her for so long, but perhaps with Cassian, I could finally overcome those instincts.  I wanted to try, but I was frightened.

I wandered back to the townhouse when the morning sun began rising overhead.  As I opened the gate, I realized I had a decision to make.  I was done fighting against Cassian’s advances and his kindness.  I ached for him.  

Was I at last ready to yield myself to Cassian?

And what of our future?  It wasn’t difficult to imagine a life here in Velaris with our friends and family.  I’d have everything familiar around me, while I tackled the unknown with him.  Perhaps when I started my work in the human realm, we’d go together.  I’d feel stronger with him at my back, wings spread behind us like wall of strength and power.

The relief I felt at not being his mate was still buoyant in my chest.  I hadn’t realized how terrified I’d been of the possibility until Amren had waved it in my face.  It wouldn’t be horrible to be tied to Cassian, of course.  Ironically, now it was all I could think of.

With a twang of guilt, I wondered what it would feel like to truly meet my mate.  Falling for Cassian had already been an exercise in pushing past my boundaries.  What on earth would I do with myself should I meet the male I was destined for?

What would he look like and where would he come from?

I let myself imagine the choice.  A stranger before me, and Cassian at my side.  After all he’d done for me, it was impossible to imagine leaving him that way.  I could never throw away his kindness for a stranger, mate or not.  

Cassian was mine.  He was finally  _ mine _ , and I could not decide where to go from here.

Faced with the possibility of a real future together, I turned to the only person who offered me any true comfort.

Elain was different than she had been as a human. She was less damaged now than before the war, but she was still altered. It was as though she hovered on another plane of reality; above, somewhere, where she held her seer knowledge and observed the rest of us below.

I found my sister on a stone bench in the courtyard, shrouded by the mottled shade of a low-hanging tree.  There was a stack of flowers on one side of her, and a collection of small glass vases on the other. 

“The roses were all coming to their end, so I'm going to arrange them for the house,” she said, in greeting.

I kneeled on the grass at her feet.  “May I help?”

Her sweet laughter made my heart tumble in my chest.  “ _ You _ want to help?”

“Don’t be snotty.  Shall I clip the stems while you arrange them?”

Elain beamed at me and handed me a set of worn, iron clippers.  “Very well.”

We worked in silence for a short while, broken by the sharp sound of clipped stems and the rustle of rose petals.

“You’re very conflicted,” she said eventually.  Her eyes watched me carefully.  “I’ve never seen you like this.”

I placed shears on the grass beside me.  “Elain, I’m afraid.”

“Of Cassian?”

I lifted a fallen rose petal from my lap and rubbed it between my thumb and forefinger.  “That I love him.”

She let out a sad little sigh.  “Oh Nesta.  Why on earth are you  _ afraid _ ?”

Fear beat within my heart as I gazed up at her.  “I’ve never felt like this before.”

With her delicate fingers, she reached for a thick strand of my hair and started braiding it over my shoulder.  “Love is supposed to make you brave and strong.  Doesn’t he make you feel that way?”

“Yes of course, but…” 

“Is he a good man?”  

I blinked at her. I wasn't sure if it was her human phrasing that gave me pause, or the phrase itself.  _ Good man _ .

Of course Cassian was  _ good _ , to me. But that wasn't necessarily who he was, or who he was supposed to be. He needed to be more than that. I was slowly starting to realize I didn't need a  _ good _ partner, I needed a strong one. One who could hold me to the ground at our feet and keep me from flying away.

“Nesta?”

I flinched and looked up into Elain’s eyes.  Sunlight splashed over her cheek, lighting up her brown eyes like amber.

“He’s good to me, yes.” I said.

Elain’s smile was pure and beautiful and everything I'd been missing over the last several weeks.  She finished her braid, then combed it free with her fingers.  “You can’t love without taking the risk,” she murmured.  “You have to decide if you’re ready for that.”

“I’m tired of doing nothing with my life,” I said, bitterly.

“I know. I am too.”

She released me and began sorting through the roses I’d trimmed.  We worked silently as the birds chirped overhead.  Her voice echoed inside my head.   _ You have to decide _ .

There was a choice.  Cassian had said it himself.

“You know, Cassian is the only one that has ever changed you,” Elain said, idly fiddling with flowers in the nearest vase.  “Don’t you think that means something?”

“Changed me?”

Elain eyed me in a way that was  _ so _ like our third sister, I almost growled in distaste.  “You haven’t changed in any way, shape or form as long as I’ve known you.  In the last six months you’ve started physical training, inherited a  _ job _ and embraced friendship with strangers.  Perhaps more than friendship.”  She smiled knowingly at me.

She was right, of course.  My life has a fae had been a metamorphosis in multiple ways already.  It would be unfair to leave Cassian out of that equation.  He had pushed and goaded me into a friendship with him at the start, but everything that had happened afterwards…  I’d learned so much from him already.

I was overwhelmed with gratitude for him and all he’d done; for how he’d treated me and cared for me when no one else dared to come near.

Elain placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.  “When I look ahead for you, dearest sister, I see happiness.  Bright, uninterrupted happiness.  If there was ever a time to take a risk, it’s now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've broken the mold, and I'm not sorry.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the big moment as much as I enjoyed writing it. Still plenty more to come!
> 
> Thank you for all of your reviews and encouragement! I'm so pleased that so many of you are enjoying this story!
> 
> Thank you also to my love and pre-reader NoBaggage. <3


	7. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say magic happens at Rita's. Or do they?
> 
> Tensions are high, and the urge to kiss is even higher. A night out for everyone, but mostly it's just angst.
> 
> We're so close though!!

####  Dance

#####  Cassian

 

The whole thing had been Mor’s idea.  And, while I trusted my friend with my life, I’d had a bad feeling about it from the start.

_ “Let’s go to Rita’s,” _ she had said.  _ “Let’s dance the night away, like old times!” _  I rolled my eyes.   _ Let’s all be miserable in the same venue, _ more like it.

I peered over the heads of my companions to where Nesta was walking with Feyre’s arm around her waist.  She caught my eye for a heartbeat, and held.  Something flashed between us and we both looked away.

I groaned to myself and failed to counter the hard shove Rhys placed on my shoulder, nearly knocking me over the railings and into the Sydra below.

Rhys’ eyes widened and he bit down hard on his lip to hide a smile.  “If I didn’t know any better-”

_ “Don’t. _ ”

“-I’d say you reminded me of myself, six months ago.”  His bright eyes flicked to Azriel who was decidedly conflicted which one of us he should be protecting.  “Wouldn’t you say, Az?”

Then my brother, my treasured warrior friend, broke into a wide grin.  “No one could possibly be  _ that _ bad for another five hundred years, Rhys.”

Even I laughed as Rhys shot Azriel a pointed glare.  He jumped out of the way as Rhys swiped for him.  The women tittered at us from the other side of the street.

Eventually, Rhys slung his arm around me.  “You know, everyone says magic happens at Rita’s.”

“No one says that,” I snapped, trying to shove him off.

His grip only tightened.  “Dark rooms, colored lights, music… Could be a good place to make a move.”

“That seemed to work out well for you last time,” I snarled, breaking his hold on me with a loud flap of my wings.  Both my brothers backed away, hands raised.  “Stay out of it,” I growled, rounding on them.

Az arched a brow.

“I don’t need you lot spooking her off.  Things are  _ fine _ .”  I looked over to Nesta as we crossed another bridge.  She wore something sheer, draped over a slim-fitting slip that seemed to hug her every curve.  She had pulled her hair back with gold combs that caught the light of every torch we passed.  My heart ached.  “I’m not going to ruin it.”

Rhys was chewing on the corner of his mouth when I looked up.  He lifted a hand to my shoulder and squeezed tight.  “As you wish.”

He and Az continued on to catch up with the rest of our group.  I hung behind, morosely following the sway of Nesta’s hips.

Rita had saved the best table for us, and I sat at the far end, half obscured by shadow.  Nesta, Elain and Feyre sat close, enjoying a shared memory or tale from their childhood.  I remembered the first time we brought Feyre here, and how she spent the whole night glaring at Rhys at the bar.  Likewise, Az spent the whole night watching Mor flit around her problems, while I attempted, unsuccessfully to pry secrets from her.

I sighed.  What a mess.

And tonight, would other males hover around Nesta, begging for a dance, or more?  It had taken her  _ months _ to warm up to me. If she accepted one of those desperate fools right away, I’d probably blast this place off the planet.

At my wrists, crimson flared and I shoved my siphons under the table.  When Az eyed me, I felt the shame and anger ignite inside my stomach.  My wings rustled and I pushed myself back from the table and stood from my chair.  I didn’t look to see who noticed.

On my way out, I snagged a rolled cigarette from Rita at the door.  She winked at me as she held a flame up to my lips.  I rolled my eyes and strode out the door and into the side alley.  Gathering fae were waiting by the entrance, and as I passed, the streets echoed with drunken laughter and shouting.  The alley however, was quiet and calm, disturbed only by the evening breeze winding through the buildings.  My head fell back against stone wall, and I stared up at the uninterrupted ribbons of stars in the sky.  Smoke billowed from my lips like clouds with each exhale.  Rita always made the best cigarettes.  I didn’t even bother trying to roll my own, I just saved them for each time I visited this place.  It wasn’t hard to come up with some reason to run away and hide in the alley.

I hadn’t come here with Mor in ages.  Since before Feyre decided to stay.  For years and years we’d haunted the worn, stone floors inside the hall.  We’d danced, sung and laughed until the thin sliver of dawn light cracked above the level horizon of the sea.

I blew out another puff of smoke as I closed my eyes.  Free and wild Cassian, I could hardly remember what he was like.  I longed to dance in the darkness with my friends, or with any female who felt like it.  My body ached for touches, kisses, pleasure.  When was the last time anyone had actually touched me because they wanted to?  Because they wanted  _ me _ ?  

Now, I was ruined.  All I wanted was for  _ her _ to touch me.  For those long fingers to slide their way from my neck to my toes until I could hardly stand to be inside my own skin.  I put the cigarette to my lips and took a long drag.  The burn in my lungs was welcome.

“What are you doing out here?”

I flinched so violently that I nearly threw the cigarette from my fingers.  Nesta stood at the mouth of the alleyway.  The torch over her head made her flicker in the light.

From my spot on the wall I could admire her unabashedly.  Any hesitation I had about scaring her away scattered to the wind with the smoke from my lips.  Let her see, let her know how badly I ached for her.  Neta’s body seemed to tense as my eyes raked over her slender frame.

“I needed a moment,” I answered, dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping it with my boot.  The last bit of smoke curled from my lips as I neared her.  “What about you?” 

She opened and closed her mouth.  “You left and…”

“You missed me?” I challenged.

Her eyebrows lowered into a scowl.  “It’s just that…”  Icy blue eyes shot to the ground, then back to my own.  I took another step into her space, crowding her the way I knew she liked.  I could feel her breathing quicken, her pulse quiver in the small space between our bodies.  My fingers itched to hook over her hips and pull.  

Her lips parted and I instinctually inclined my head.  The memory of our rooftop kiss was taunting me with every breath.  If she would just lean in...

“If you were leaving, I was going to ask you to take me home.  I didn’t realize attendance was optional.”

My body sagged as a dry chuckle escaped my lips.  “Sorry to disappoint, sweetheart.”  I fiddled with one of the long earrings that dangled over her shoulders.  “You can’t leave until you’ve had at least one dance.”

Her eyes rolled heavenward and I laughed again.  “Feyre said as much.”

“I’ll cut a deal with you,” I offered.

Nesta raised a brow, expectantly. 

“Dance two dances with me, and I’ll fly you home, no questions asked.  I won’t even make you walk in those dainty slippers.”

Her body seemed to relax, slumping slightly to one side.  A hint of a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.  “I’ll consider it.  Now, come back inside.  Feyre and Rhys are making me sick.”

Before I could blurt out another stupid comment, she took my hand and led us towards the door.  I squeezed hard, because I couldn’t help it; her hand was so small and soft.  A heartbeat passed before she squeezed back even harder.

It was darker inside than it was on the street.  The band had started playing their music in my favorite style - harmonic melody mixed with driving percussion.  My eyes went to Mor, who was twirling between tables with Feyre.  

“ _ This _ is music?” Nesta asked, close to my ear.  “It’s quite loud.”

“Hmmm,” I hummed, looping our joined hands over her shoulder so her back was pressed to my chest and our arms a crossed over her hips. “You’re supposed to feel it in your bones. That’s how you do the best dancing.”  The shell of her ear was like velvet against my lips.  Something feral inside my head urged me to nip her earlobe, lick her skin from shoulder to jaw.  

To her beautiful, wondrous credit, she did not push me away.  I felt her head loll back on my shoulder so she could reach my ear.  “This is not dancing.  This is sex with clothes on.”

She’d probably said it without thinking.  A fact on its own, that made me want to die inside.  That she would speak that way to  _ me _ , finally.  But that word off her tongue -  _ sex  _ \- sent every impure thought I had about that purple dress right to my cock.  Quickly, and without hesitation, I twisted her back around and released her hand.  

“Drink?”

In the darkness it was hard to tell, but I could have sworn there was a hint of color on her cheeks.  She shook her head in answer and I stalked away without another word.

The ancient wooden bar wasn’t cool enough against my palms as I planted them loudly on its surface.  The barman looked up from the glass he was cleaning with a cloth.  “The usual?” he asked hopefully.

I nodded and left a stack of coins on the bar.

He poured me two shallow glasses of amber liquid.  The first, I drained in one gulp.  The liquor went down my throat like fire.  I growled in approval, winked at the barman, and took the second glass with me.

I found shelter against a dark wall on the far side of the dance hall, choosing Azriel’s moody tactic over my usual blatant confidence.  It appeared that my brother had already disappeared from the events of the evening.  Perhaps it was too soon for him to celebrate this way.  With a twang of remorse, I realised it was probably too soon for all of us.

Two more swallows of my drink had taken the edge off my anger and arousal.  All that remained was a steady simmering under my skin.  I forced myself to watch the other patrons, and not search for Nesta, Mor or the others.  The music filled my head and I closed my eyes slowly.  

I felt him beside me, as I usually did.  A gradual presence that slowly tugged at your senses until he was there, blue siphons gleaming in the flickering lights.

“So you are still here,” I said, smiling.  

His eyes were dark.  “Not for long, I think.”

We both watched the dance floor.  “Do you think we’ve outgrown this?” I asked bringing the glass to my lips.

I was surprised to hear him laugh.  He pressed his fingers into his eyes as he shook his head.  “You’re just finally hung up on a female, you idiot.”

“What?”

“I’ve always hated this place.  Now you know why.”

I let out a loud, defeated sigh.  “I thought it was supposed to be more fun when you have someone.”

Az glared at me.  “We don’t  _ have _ anyone.”

We both seemed to slump against the wall at the same time.  

He lulled his head to one side and smiled sadly at me.  “There's no reason both of us have to be like this.  You should go dance with her.”

I glared at him. “There's no reason for  _ you _ to be like this. It's been forever for you.  Find someone tonight.  I’ll stuff floss in my ears when I get home.”

The shadows grew denser around his shoulders, even as he reached for my glass and drained the rest of its contents. “No. Not tonight.”

We stood together for what felt like an hour, the shadow taking Azriel further and further from view. Eventually he disappeared all together, and that was when Nesta found me.

She was practically glowing in the darkness.  Slender, sexy and everything I’d ever wanted.  If she were mine I’d pull her to me, and carry her away from this place.  Up to my bedroom where we could spend all night together...

“Coward,” Nesta murmured, stepping close enough so our toes touched. She moved her body with a confident swagger, no doubt from dancing with Mor and attracting eyes all over the hall.  Well-earned, of course.  She was stunning.  Nesta gazed up at me curiously, awaiting my snide response, perhaps not yet aware that her words were the truth.

I watched realization flit over her face before I slid a hand around her back and pulled her to me.  Every soft curve of her pressed fully into my chest.  She fit there, like a missing piece of my armor.  

In a voice that was much too calm to be my own, I asked, “Don't I owe you a dance?” 

She was watching my lips with rapt fascination. “Yes.”

“Well?” Gesturing forwards the crowd in the center of the restaurant.

Nesta watched everyone else over her shoulder, then turned back to me. “Can't we just dance here? It's less...crowded.”

All I could think about was that purple dress she wore. I wondered how many buttons were at the back, and how easily they could be unfastened without looking. My hand was still looped around her waist, and I flexed my fingers against her hip.

Could she tell what she did to me? Was she truthfully unaware of how painfully I wanted her?

“Do you want to be alone with me, or are you just bashful, Nes?” I kept my voice low, as I bent toward her ear. I knew she'd draw away from me, like a skittish forest cat between the trees. I knew she'd scowl at me and burn me to ashes for how brazen I was behaving. And yet…

_ And yet. _

I hoped.

 

***

#####  Nesta

 

My body was alight with flames.  All over, my skin tingled and the hair rose across my arms.  Cassian was looking at me in a way that made me want to scream and take off my clothes at the same time.  Even still, there was  _ fear _ masked there.  Fear of what?

With a heavy pang of guilt I realized exactly why. Because I was the bird in his hands, struggling to get free.  I could stay for him, I  _ knew _ I could, but I was frightened.  The way he was looking at me made me realize how much I would lose if I failed.

I could imagine all of it.  Spending a hundred years dancing in this restaurant together after sundown. Cassian looking at me like this for centuries. Being enraptured by the ebony of his hair and the brightness of his eyes for the rest of my days.

A lump formed in the back of my throat.

Cassian’s hand was warm and solid on my hip, anchoring me to him even as the moments ticked by. I'd been staring at him for too long, thinking of things I didn't have any business contemplating.

But he was so handsome…

So tall and broad and warm. I could feel it radiating from him like sunbeams. And even though the hall itself was musty and overcrowded, I stepped into it, and closer to him.  As though he was waiting, the other arm slid around my back. Between us I could feel the heavy thundering of his heart.

I let myself wonder what it might be like to have his skin pressed against mine. To be protected, not by the walls around me, but by the strength and bravery of Cassian. By  _ him _ ; his very body, curled around me like a shield.

My heart seemed to fracture in my chest. Some day, this unstoppable warrior would need me, and when he required protection or comfort, what in the Cauldron’s name could I offer him?

“Nesta.”

He said my name like a prayer, small and short as it was, but to my ears it was heavy with feeling - with  _ something. _ My breath caught in my throat.

“What do you want with me?” he sighed painfully and dropped his head to my shoulder. “What can I give you? I'll do anything.”

I leaned into him and slung my arms around his shoulders, fingers lacing into the hair at the back of his neck.

“I don't know,” I said honestly, pressing my lips into his hair.  “I want you to hold me.”

His arms tightened at the command and he sagged with unspoken emotion. A slow exhale caressed my skin through my dress.  He started swaying us back and forth, and it was then that i realized the music had changed. Slow, indulgent, romantic.  I moved with him.

We danced for one song, then another, until finally the fast music started thumping the walls once more.  Cassian’s hands were fisted around handfuls of my dress, clutching me like he'd never let go. I'd been idly stroking his hair while we danced, my hand hidden around the back of his head.

He’d never held me like this before,  _ no one _ had.  

Our kiss the other night had been unbelievable.  That I could feel so much just from his lips, from the way he held me, from the feeling of his tongue against my own.  What would it feel like the next time, and the time after that?

Could we burn this brightly forever?  

I pressed my nose into the skin of his neck.

“Nesta?” he said my name again, this time a question.

I lifted my head to meet his eyes.

“You have to know by now what you mean to me.”

A breath caught in my throat at the raw honesty in his eyes.  He was breaking apart inside, just like me.  I swallowed. “I'm a coward.”

He shook his head. “You are the opposite of a coward.”

My eyes burned.  “I’m not what you want,” I whispered.

Cassian’s eyebrows crumpled.  “What are you talking about? You’re everything I want.”

Even as a wellspring of pleasure sprouted in my chest at his words, I doubted them.  “How can you mean that? I'm horrible and cold. I say the wrong things and push you away. You want that?”

“ _ Yes.”   _ His arms tightened on me to keep me in place. “Haven't you been paying attention?”

“Don't tease me.”

“I'm not.”

I took a step back so I could see him fully. “Cassian, I can't be the female you deserve. A lady of the court, someone like Feyre. Some sort of prize on your arm at every moment.  Loving, personable, empathetic...”

Cassian’s face was like stone. A carved frown and set brows. “And you think that's what I want?”

“Isn't it?”

With a tug of his hands, he pulled me back to him so we were nose to nose. “Your sister and Rhys are disgusting.”  His hazel eyes glowed like molten metal.  “You are  _ fire _ , Nesta.  I want you to burn me.”

Fear tightened its grip on my lungs and throat while passion burned steadily in my heart.

Cassian’s gaze darkened.  “You think I don't know who you are, but I do. I've been watching since the day I met you. I’ve wanted you every day.”  His quiet fury was rippling between us like scarlet waves.  “So don't give me any of this bullshit. You know damn well that I’m in love with you.”

All the air and sound was sucked out of the room.  I stared gaping at him, unable to draw a breath.   _ Love _ .  As that bubble of pleasure grew inside me, so did the frigid grip of fear.  Love was forever, and too much to lose.  Could I bear to lose him the day my temper blew it all to hell?  Was that day today?

I could see the fissure between Cassian and myself; it was a leap that only I could make.  Here he was, laying his precious, gentle heart out before me, and I was too afraid to accept it.  I knew myself.  I was too prone to blow up, explode, push away the people I cared about the most.

I thought of all the things I wanted; his faith in me, and our companionship, his hands on my body, his presence beside me, always.

Those glorious lips on mine, making me his.

I wanted to say so much, but the words stuck in my throat like ash.  I loved him, I knew I did, but I couldn’t say it.  Not tonight.  I realized too late that I was trembling in his arms. He watched me with wide, heartbroken eyes as I failed to answer his plea.

“Nothing?” His laugh was bitter and filled with disbelief.  He scrubbed his face with his hand. “I don’t know what I expected.”

I bit down on my tongue.

I knew then, that there would be no more words.  Like a battle, this one was over, and there was nothing to do but leave.

So he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hang in there, guys! We're almost there!
> 
> I wrote this chapter out of sequence from the rest, long ago. It's morphed a bit, now that I know where the story is going. I hope you enjoyed! Fear not, peace and conclusion are coming very soon.
> 
> Can you guys tell that Feyre annoys me? lol.
> 
> Thank you so so so very much for all of your wonderful comments last week. I am eternally pleased that all of you are enjoying this story.
> 
> Thank you to my dear beta and friend, NoBaggage, who has actually read through this chapter TWICE and improved it both times.


	8. The Unwinding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations everyone. You made it! I'm really proud of you.
> 
> Please enjoy the figurative "Unwinding"
> 
> M rating starts now!

####  The Unwinding

#####  Cassian

 

I flew to the camps that night.  Away.  Far away.

I was man enough to admit that I was running.  I was hurt and angry.  Nesta made me feel lost in my own mind, and like my heart didn’t belong to me.  The way she had merely  _ stared _ at me when I told her I loved her.  I was breaking apart inside, and too weary to bear it any longer.

For once, Rhys didn’t taunt me in my head as I flew further and further from Velaris.  When I arrived at the camp at the crack of dawn, Mor hadn’t sent any nasty notes.  They let me be.  Even they seemed to know it was serious this time.

As the sun rose over the granite steppes surrounding camp, I shoved my heart aside and got to work.

Four days were spent in inspections, trainings and strategy sessions with my remaining men.  I worked them hard, and myself harder.  My preoccupation with Nesta had impacted my presence amongst the legions.  Training regiments had suffered, the allegiance of the men was spotty, and everyone seemed to have forgotten who I was.  At the end of each day, my voice was hoarse and my muscles were in agony.  

Fear me, hear me, I was Cassian, Lord of Bloodshed.

A skirmish with some creatures in the nearby forest kept me away for another few days.  The stick-thin wraiths were untrained and unorganized.  We slaughtered them in droves, and as I thrust my sword through wraith after wraith, I finally started to feel like myself again.  I was an Illyrian warrior and I would yield for no one. At night, exhausted and bloody, I cleaned my blade around the bonfire with my men, and soaked it all in.  

Afterwards, in my bed, I dreamed of Nesta.  I saw the long column of her throat, and the curve of her shoulder.  I could practically feel how warm and soft that skin would be to the touch if she would just let me.  I imagined the slope of her breasts and how they’d fit in my hands.  I dreamed about what it would be like if we were joined together, legs tangled, pleasure taken and given.  When I jerked awake, it took several long minutes before I realized I was alone in my tent and that the woman I loved was across the territory.    As dawn light crept through tent canvas, I brought myself to completion with my own hand until I cried out her name into the darkness.

The next morning, I walked the camp, feeling out of place and unsettled.  I was ripped in two, torn between my life and my future.  Bloodshed and Nesta.  

My love for her burned like hot coals in my chest, aching and true.  I was myself here, but could I be  _ more _ if I had her too?  That fire that burned around her was a challenge that I sought out each day.  Like battle, I trained harder and harder to win her.  If I returned to Velaris for nothing but ice cold indifference, had the rewards been worth it all?  That kiss, the look in her eyes when she let me in, her hands on my skin.

I remembered all the times that Rhys called Feyre his ‘equal.’   _ In every way _ , he’d said.  I thought it was romantic then, and indulged my friend in this ridiculous belief.  That he, the most powerful High Lord in history, could be equaled by a human-made-Fae who was less than a year old.

For everything he went through, of course we would believe him.  Of course we wouldn’t tease him.

Now, however, it was different.  I’d seen it, I knew what he meant.

Nesta  _ was _ my equal.  In strength, temperament and capability.  She was everything.

Even if she beat me to shit around the house for the rest of our lives, I’d know we were matched.  And...that I had probably deserved it.

That night, unable to sleep and again plagued with thoughts of Nesta, I threw on my leathers and flew home.  My wings set a punishing pace, driving me over the mountains and clouds faster than I normally dared.  It was lazy, stupid flying, but I needed to get back.  Needed  _ her _ .

I closed my eyes for a time, as I cleared the steppes and continued north to Velaris.  I remembered staring at the knotty wood of her closed bedroom door and all that she and I had faced since then.  The thrill of the future hummed pleasantly in the pit of my stomach.  A  _ life _ with Nesta.  It was all I’d wanted with anyone, but with her, it was something more.  We were close,  _ so close _ .  Perhaps if I waited just a little longer she would finally yield to me and we could have that time; an eternity together.

The townhouse was dark when I landed on the roof with a  _ thud _ .  I stood to my full height until a motion in the corner of my eye had me reaching for my blade.  Nesta smelled like pine and snow as she appeared on the tiles, white nightgown billowing around her bare feet.  I let my sword slide back into its scabbard at my hip as I strode towards her.  Her hair was down in loose ribbons at her back and the breeze lifted it from her face.

“I heard your wings,” she said.

Days ago, I would have waited like a trained soldier; read the situation and considered all angles of attack.  Perhaps reached for her hand or a cursory touch of her shoulder.  

This time, Cauldron boil me, I didn’t care.

I went for her, and she let me.

She threw her arms around my neck as we collided and I lifted her off the ground.  Her hands wound into my hair as she clutched me.  “You were gone,” she breathed harshly against the skin of my neck.

My eyes opened as I set her back down on the ground.  She kept her fingers tangled in my hair as my hands slid down the thin fabric of her gown to her hips. I could feel the softness of her skin under my palms.

“You were gone and I…”. Desperation had clouded her razor sharp features.  Her brows crumpled. “I thought I ruined everything.”

Her fingers abandoned my hair to trace lines over my face, igniting my skin with trails of fire.  Our foreheads fell together as we both gasped for breath.  Everything I wanted to was so close I could hardly stand it.  

Without another word, she stood on her toes and pressed her lips to mine.

I cupped her face in my hands and tried my damndest not to crush her.  I couldn’t push her away.  Even if she threw me to the ground, I would never deny her this.  I’d get up and try again.  Again, and  _ again _ . 

“I’m a fucking liar,” she hissed.

I kissed her filthy mouth, too unwound to stop.  The vulgar word off her lips stirred something feral inside me.  She pushed me back with a shove and we watched each other warily in the darkness.

“I’m a liar because I love you, Cassian.”

I stopped breathing.

Her face broke with emotion as tears filled her eyes.  “Of  _ course _ I love you.”

I barely let her finish before my lips crashed into hers.  Around us, my siphons cast a red shield, closing us in from anything or anyone who decided to intrude on this moment.  Nothing would take this from me.

I tipped her head back and deepened the kiss.  The first sweep of her tongue against mine had my knees shaking.  Six months of desire, six months of  _ wanting _ .  I hardly knew how to put it all into one kiss.

“Say it again.” My voice stuck in my throat.

A helpless smile had spread over her face and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.  “I love you, Cassian.”  A tear fell down her cheek.  “Tell me I haven’t ruined everything.  Do you still love me?”

As though I could ever stop.

“Yes,” I whispered.  The tips of my fingers brushed over her hips and up her back where I flattened my palms. She seemed to relax under my touch, softening ever so slightly against my body. “I love you,” I murmured close to her ear. “And if you'll let me, I'll spend eternity proving it to you.” I placed a kiss beside her jaw, under her ear.

The veins under her skin were like a map, guiding my lips with the steady thrum of her pulse underneath.  Her skin pebbled under my caress and I smiled, teeth grazing. I moved down, down until I reached that spot, where months ago I had taken my first taste of her skin. It had been my undoing then, and I couldn't imagine what it would do to me now. 

I knew she felt it too when she froze stiff in my arms.  In synchronized slow motion, she tilted her head back, my arms tightened around her, and I pressed the flat of my tongue to her glorious skin.

It was as though bindings fell off both of us. Her arms hooked around my neck as she tugged me closer. I pressed one open mouthed kiss after another, knowing it would never be enough. I'd never satiate this hunger for her.  _ Ever. _

To prove my point, I bit down on the soft skin of her shoulder. Her fingers fisted my hair and tugged until we were staring at each other.  I was laughing and she was scowling.

“And this animal behavior, is this part of it?”

“Only if you like it,” I purred.

Her eyes fell to my lips as she said. “Take me somewhere. Away from here.”

I hadn't yet considered what to do in this moment, should it arise.  I was more than willing to surrender her for the night as I’d done time and time again.  Because what could I possibly want more than this acknowledgement?  I ached for more, surely, but I was too cowardly to ask for anything else tonight.

I aimed for humor instead.  “You don't want your sisters listening to us making out on the rooftop?”

“No.”

I was laughing as I lifted her legs in my arms and took us into the sky.  The townhouse and Velaris spiraled from view as I shot upwards, towards the mountains, to the House of Wind.

The palace remained lit from the inside, glowing like golden treasure from atop its flat-topped mountain.  My veranda was flickering in torchlight when I landed outside.  I let Nesta down gently and watched her, warily as she took a step forward.

She looked around and peered inside to my bedroom. “Where are we?”

I scratched behind my ear. “These are my rooms in the Palace.”

Nesta looked over her shoulder to arch a brow.  “I thought you had a nest somewhere in the trees.”

“Ha. Ha.”

We smiled at each other while wind and stars moved overhead.

It needed to be said.  The words bubbled to my lips.  “I didn't bring you here to…”

As I spoke, her eyes shifted to the huge bed inside.

I took a hurried step forward. “It's quiet here, we won't be bothered. We can talk about everything.  All night, if you want.”

“Everything?” she asked, quietly.

I reached for her hand.  “Where we go from here, the state of Prythian, how to start a campfire, the finer points of knife fighting?”  

She gave me a withering look.

“Anything you want,” I added, gently lifting her knuckles to my lips.  It was true, I’d talk about glow worms for hours if that’s what she wanted.

She watched my lips on her hand.  When her eyes lifted they were molten steel.  “What if I don't want to talk?”

I swallowed thickly.

“Is it so hard to imagine, Cassian? I've wanted this with you since that day in my bedroom.” She pointed southward, towards the distant human realm. “Every time you look at me I'm there, staring you down, willing you to see that I am made of stone.”

“Only you're not,” I whispered, finally closing the space that had grown between us. She let me step into her body. “You're flesh and blood, just like the rest of us.”

Her eyes narrowed as she peered up at me.  “You see me better than anyone. Why? You had never met me before the day you prowled into my sitting room. How did you see me?”

I brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “You were burning, and I wanted to burn with you.”

“Romantic fool,” Nesta hissed.  Her finger traced over one of the buckles across my chest.

“So, if we’re not talking, what are we doing up here? “  I did my best to sound cool and collected.

Her fist closed around the strap over my chest and pulled until our lips collided.  

  
  


***

#####  Nesta

 

As we kissed, Cassian backed me against a stone pillar on the balcony of his bedroom.  The light from inside cast gold halos around us, like we were something out of a dream.  Maybe we were.  

Inside his room, a massive bed lay against the wall beside the floor to ceiling windows.  I couldn’t stop glancing at it, wondering if perhaps I’d end up there soon.  Under his body, moving together, skin on skin.  

His hands were light like feathers as they moved up my arms, to my neck until he cupped my face.  I let my head fall back as he kissed me slowly, deeply.  It was almost too much; the tender slowness.  It made my chest ache when I thought about all the times he could have kissed me before.  How soon I could have known this with him.

He broke away to kiss my cheek, my jaw, and my neck.  His damp lips, drew a cool line across my skin.  I shivered as his hands roamed across my ribs and my hips, setting fire to every inch they touched.  

At last he pulled back to watch me, so many questions written on his face.

“Nesta,” he sighed, reluctant smile spreading over his lovely face.

My thumb traced the shape of his lower lip.

“I need you to tell me what you want.”

_ Everything _ .   _ Nothing.  Him, everywhere.   _

“You,” I said, heart thundering as his smile widened into something wicked.

Despite my words, his hands remained fixed resolutely to my hips.  It appeared that Cassian required some encouragement.  I tugged at the ties of my own nightgown, untying knots and unwinding laces until it slipped over my shoulders and down to the stone at our feet.  After everything we’d been through, somehow baring myself before him didn’t seem as frightening as I had feared.  With all that I had thrown at him over the last several months, I needed to give him this version of myself; flesh and blood, thorns and all.  All the fear I’d harbored inside my chest disappeared.  Because, who else but Cassian would see the real me?

There was only him.

I considered how I looked; a tiny female body standing naked before Cassian, a massive sculpture of wings and muscle, still dressed from head to toe in fearsome Illyrian armor.  

To his credit, Cassian’s eyes stayed locked on mine, even though I could hear the fluttering of his heart and the blood surging through his veins.  “You’re perfect,” he said.  

Slowly, as though I would burn him, he lowered his hands to my skin, one on each side of my hips.  He pressed kisses from my ear to my shoulder where he lingered quietly.  He pressed his nose to the skin there, inhaling a deep, slow breath.

He placed an open-mouthed kiss into the flesh of my shoulder and his touch reminded me how much I wanted him.  How much I always had wanted him.

He traveled down my body that way, resuming the path he could have taken all those months ago.  Over my chest, between my breasts, down to my navel and hips, across my thighs.  He knelt on the ground and looked up at me, eyes heavy-lidded and dark.  His wings were spread wide behind him, anchoring him in place.  I reached for his shoulders and pulled him upright.

With steady hands, I unfastened the buckles at his throat and across his chest.  His leather tunic fell open inch by inch, revealing a glimpse of his muscled chest.  When at last everything was undone, he held out his wrists to me.  One by one, I unhooked clasps and buckles to remove the gauntlets from his hands.  I realized the gravity of what he was doing; surrendering his power to this moment - to  _ me _ .  

The siphons were heavy and I stared at the smooth curve of the scarlet stones.  Their luster had faded as they were removed from his body.  I lifted my eyes in question.  His mouth was pulled up at one side.

“Tonight, you protect me, sweetheart.” He let the tunic fall from his arms.  

It was my turn to step forward and press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart.  I used my hands and lips to catalog every inch of his torso.  The strong biceps on his arms, the defined muscles of his chest and the taut skin of his stomach.  I left the pillar to circle around him and under his wings, hand dragging in my wake, until I could kiss my way down his spine; on each word that lay there, tattooed into his skin.

From here I could wind my arms around his narrow hips, to the buckle of his belt.  It fell to the ground in a clatter of leather and steel.  The innocent twang of fear bubbled in my belly as I worked the first button of his pants, then the second, and so on, until he was undone.  

Hiding my face in the flesh of his back, I pressed a hand flat to his stomach, and  began to drag it downward.

“Nesta,” he growled, covering my hands with his.  Not to stop me, but to feel.  My fingers followed the thin trail of hair down from his navel, below the waistline of his pants.  His skin was scalding hot and his breaths shuddered out of him.

“Nesta,” he said again, this time a moan.

I felt it then, the warm heat of his arousal, skin like silk against my fingers.  A tremor shook his entire body as my fingertips traced the length of him.  His hands tightened around mine, guiding my motions.  Grasping, squeezing, stroking.  He was heavy in my hand, and I found my body start to ache for him in ways I didn’t fully understand.  Cassian’s legs buckled and he abruptly turned in my arms.

The resulting kiss was hot, and insistent.  I fell limp in his embrace, overcome by everything we’d just done.  He lifted me and carried me further inside his room, where he deposited me on the bed gently, as though I weighed nothing.

I watched as he stood and removed his boots and pants, finally taking in what I could not see from his back.  His cock hung heavy between his legs, thickening with arousal.  He caught my eyes as I stared.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, shaking his head.

I snorted. “ _ That _ ?  Cassian... _ that _ will never work.”

He looked down at himself, then back at me with a rugged smile.  “I don’t know, it looks like it’s working to me.”

I rolled my eyes.

He was laughing when lowered himself onto the bed and crawled up to where I lay against the pillows.  His large body stretched beside me, dipping the mattress so I rolled into the warmth of him.  He slipped an arm under my head and cradled me with the other.  “I’ve said it before,” he said, gently, “I’m not going to fuck you, Nesta.”

I stared up at him, marveling at his handsome face.  That word again, consuming my body with desire the moment it left his lips.  “What if I want you to?”

His expression clouded with doubt and he held me tighter.  “Nesta there’s too much…”  He waved his hand in the space between us.  “Someone hurt you, I can’t-”

“ _ You _ won’t hurt me.”

A crease formed between his brows.  “No, of course not.  But...I hurt someone before.  I took something I shouldn’t have.  I can’t take that from you.”

I placed a hand on the side of his face.  “I’m giving it to you.”

Cassian leaned into my palm and pressed his lips there.  “Nesta…”

“I love you, I want to be with you this way.”

His eyes softened as he watched me through his lashes.  I’d tell him I loved him every four seconds if he would keep looking at me like that.  

“We have an eternity to be together if you want, there’s no rush.  I want to make sure this isn’t just about the pleasure in it; scratching an itch.  This is…”   His lips pursed as he thought about it.  “I can’t just walk away from this when it’s over.”  He turned his head to press his lips to my palm again, hiding his face.

“I don’t want you to walk away from it.”  With more courage than I thought I possessed, I trailed my hand down his chest, back to where he was still hard, and aching.  He hissed when I touched him.

His hand grabbed my wrist and held tight.  “Wait.  Let me make you feel good first,” he said.  His voice was rough and deep, and I felt it move across my skin.  “I don't need my cock to do that.”

My shaky exhale seemed to be the consent he needed.  He kept his eyes on me as he began tracing lines on my skin with his fingertips.  Across my throat and my chest, over my breasts and down,  _ down _ .  As his fingers found where I wanted him most, he dropped his head with a mumbled curse before continuing in lazy, circular strokes.  I could feel the dampness between my legs, and my cheeks heated sharply.  

“Cassian, I…”

He kissed my shoulder and shook his head.  “Just feel it. All of it. I've been thinking about this for a  _ long _ time”

It took a while for me to relax enough to enjoy everything.  Eventually each sensation crept in slowly.  The feeling of his fingers, rough and worn, on me, inside me.  The look in his eyes while he watched me writhe on top of his bed; that intense focus as he too began to come unraveled with need.  

His lips on my skin were softer than I’d ever imagined.  He teased my breasts with his mouth and tongue until I was practically shaking.  When he took my nipple between his teeth, it was only a matter of seconds before I fell apart in his arms.  I cried out his name and reached for him, hands curling into his hair.  My vision dissolved into stars and light and he encircled me in his arms as I fell back down to earth.

“By the Mother,” he cursed over my lips as he kissed me slowly.  “I’ve wanted to do that to you since the moment I met you.”

“You’re foul,” I said weakly, even as the confession sent lightning through my fingertips and toes.

His eyes glowed with something dark and predatory.  “I wanted to devour you.”

I studied him in the low light of the room; sheen of sweat on his brow, hair wild around his head.  He licked his lips.  “And now, General?  Do you want me?”

A slow nod made my toes curl.

“Say it.” I demanded.

Cassian kissed me first, communicating his desires without words.  His body curved and pressed into me.  I could feel every part of him against my skin; heat, scars and muscle.  His wings shadowed us in darkness as my legs drew up around his hips.  “Nesta,” he growled, “I want to make love to you.  I want to be inside you.  I want...you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you thought I was going to go all the way there, didn't you? I had to get through some important things here. Acknowledgement of their feelings for each other, and how their pasts play into intimacy. Fear not, I have a whole chapter devoted to the good stuff. Tune in next week for indulgent love scenes!
> 
> Thanks to all of you for not killing me after I left you hanging last week. I hope this chapter was a little more satisfying :) Seriously though, your reviews and kudos have surpassed all my expectations. I am so pleased so many of you are enjoying this story.
> 
> Thank you to my beta and friend, NoBaggage for reading through the behemoth that was chapters 6-8. She made them so much better! You guys don't even know. <3


	9. An Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I shuddered a breath and steeled myself against my worst fear. “And when it’s over,” I asked, “will you want me then?”_
> 
> _With her hands, she forced my head up so we could watch each other. “I want all of you, Cassian. Every moment.”_
> 
> Get comfy, everyone!

####  An Unknown

#####  Cassian

 

It was as though we were poised at the edge of a cliff, about to convince ourselves to dive off headfirst.  I’d fought unbeatable battles and lived, but this.   _ This? _  I had never faced anything as terrifying as this before.

_ Nesta _ .

She was the female I loved, and I’d do everything I could to keep it that way.  At last, after every blasted thing we’d put ourselves through, we were here.  What happened now was so much more than coupling - more than a desperate fuck after a night of foreplay.  I had everything I’d ever wanted in my arms, yet I was too afraid to make my move.  I’d dreamt of more than bedding her, of course, but I’d wanted this too, ached for it nearly every night.  She was every bit as glorious as I had always imagined; milky white skin, full breasts, slender frame and long, shapely legs.  I’d never been as fully charged as I was now, ready to pounce, to bury myself in her and finally -  _ finally _ \- join our bodies as one. 

She must have seen the fear in my eyes when she slid her fingers into the hair on either side of my head.  Her nails dragged over my scalp and I dropped my head to her chest, where I could close my eyes against her warm, soft skin.

“I want you too,” she whispered into my hair.  “I want you so much.”

I shuddered a breath and steeled myself against my worst fear.  “And when it’s over,” I asked, “will you want me then?”

With her hands, she forced my head up so we could watch each other.  “I want all of you, Cassian. Every moment.”

The look in her eyes felt like a promise.  Our bodies had shifted together as we watched each other, instinct guiding where our hearts could not lead us.  She gasped as my arousal pressed against her.

Even as a spark of terror flashed through her icy, blue eyes, she held me fast.  “Yes,” she said. 

I fit my hand to the side of her face.  “I love you.”

The first push was heaven and agony at the same time.  Heaven to be inside her, agony to jump off the edge of that cliff we’d been standing on for so long.  We jumped together, into the unknown.

She was still watching my face as she reached up to press her fingers to my cheek. I lowered myself on my elbows for a kiss as her leg hitched up against my hip, urging me on.  Deeper.  More.

With torturous slowness, I pulled out, and pressed back in.  Her head fell back.

“Okay?” I asked, arms shaking.

“Yes.”

I rocked my hips gently, leaving her time to get used to this; to me and the feeling of lovemaking.  There was the pushing past barriers, both physical and mental as we held on to each other.  I was hardly moving, waiting for her cue.

“Please,” she said finally.  Her lips dragged across my cheek.  “I'm not as fragile as you think.”

I felt like my chest was breaking open; every hidden part of me revealed and exposed.  She watched my face as I moved, taking everything she saw and accepting it.  With each stroke, I realized how long it had been for me.  Every sensation was almost more than I could bear, barreling into me one after another like waves in an unruly sea. 

I focused instead on her eyes, and the slow way she let them fall closed as pain morphed into pleasure.  I slid deeper inside and she lifted her hips to meet me, urging me on.  Her mouth dropped open and she swallowed a moan with a deep breath.

“Cassian,” she gasped, and I nearly came apart at the sound of my name off her lips.

To distract myself from ruining every preconceived notion about Illyrians, I kissed the tender flesh of her neck, her throat, her jaw.  My hands were pressed into the mattress beside her head, fisted in the sheets.

Behind me, my wings shuddered with pleasure, with the slow uncoiling of every insecurity that had built up inside me.  Because this was real, this was happening, at last.

Our hips were moving quickly now, and she rose up to meet my thrusts again and again.  Blotches of vibrant pink bloomed high on her cheekbones as she too began to lose herself in our lovemaking.  I lowered myself so our bodies were pressed skin to skin, with nothing between us.  I was too close, it was too much.

“Nesta, I…” I groaned.

We watched each other as I hurtled towards my climax.  There was pride in those icy eyes as she realized what was happening.  Her hand pressed against the skin at my back and down, until she was urging me on with a pressure against my backside.  

More.

I let go then, giving her everything I had left.  Muscles burned in my stomach as I thrust faster, harder.  It was as though she could see straight into my old, ugly heart. More than anything she'd ever done, I felt her acceptance then. The realization blossomed inside of me and I finally let go. Surrendering to the blissful oblivion, until I collapsed, spent and boneless in her arms.

My thundering heart beat between us like a drum, pounding loud and steady in my ears.  I said nothing as I counted my breaths until they slowed.  She was watching me when I opened my eyes a short while later. Outside the windows it was still the inky black of night.

“I’m still here,” she teased.  “Although, you’ve made it quite difficult to escape.”

I chuckled and lifted myself off, laying beside her and gathering her back into my arms.  Her face was a mystery, as flushed and blissful as it was.  “Did I hurt you?” I asked.  

She gave me a bashful smile and pressed a palm flat to my chest.  “No, it was…”

I swallowed.

“Cassian...I never knew it could be like that.”

Pride swelled in my chest, warm and bright.  “Just you wait, sweetheart.  We’re only getting started.”

I lifted her chin for a kiss and let myself enjoy this moment.  Fuzzy with the bliss of lovemaking, luxuriating in the feel of her soft lips on mine, enjoying the warmth of her glorious skin.  We stayed that way, slow and sweet for what felt like hours, until something shifted between us and her fingers twisted in my hair. In turn, my hands started tracing suggestively over stomach and below.  As the cool night breeze wafted through the room, I moved on top of her again.  My body was primed and ready, straining against her warm skin.  She did not argue when I slid inside her for the second time.

Nor, did she argue when I made love to her so slowly, she came apart in my arms.

We weren’t mated, obviously, but I had never considered that we would get drawn into the frenzy.  It wasn’t until I had looked at her afterwards that I felt that pull, that  _ need _ to make love to her again.  Her body answered me each time, warm and welcoming as she held me tightly in her arms.

I was waiting for a joke, or a hissed, snide comment, but none came.  Each time I reached for her, she had the same, deep line between her brows.  Desperate, immediate need. 

With our repeated coupling, she grew bolder, louder, more intense. As the dawn light started to filter through the clouds outside, she hovered over me and straddled my hips.  When she lowered herself on me, I thought I might die from the sight of it.  I cried her name as I came inside her.

We continued through dawn, into morning.  I couldn’t get enough and didn’t want to.  Somehow we were never sated, and even though my body longed for sleep, the threat of being separated from her was too great to bear.

Now that she had decided to let me in, I didn't want to let go.

Each time we made love, I felt what we had between us grow and strengthen.  Solidify.  A bond, by any other name, just not blessed by the Cauldron perhaps.  There was permanence there, and acceptance.  As though our experiences apart were now shared.

She glanced at me curiously from her pillow.  “There’s something,” she said, pressing a hand to her heart.  “Do you feel it?”

I merely nodded, and reached for her, twining our fingers together between us.

“What does it mean?”

With a smile, I moved close enough to kiss her, at last too tired and spent for more.  “It means that I love you, Nesta.  For as long as you’ll let me.”

  
  


***

#####  Nesta

  
  


For some reason I hadn’t pictured it this way with him.  Cassian, the famed Illyrian war lord, with his conquests and his medals.  He was supposed to be rough and lustful.  But this…  That he could be so giving and sweet amidst the throes of passion, the way his eyes were on me, always, that his kisses were so gentle against my lips.

“Are you all right?” came his voice, from over my shoulder.  

We were standing in a strange contraption he had constructed in his washroom.  It wasn’t a bath - for that I was grateful - but it was also for bathing.  A chain hanging from the ceiling was pulled to release a steady spray of warm water overhead.  It was like using a bucket, I supposed, but somehow more relaxing.  Cassian had been washing himself behind me and I had been giving him a semblance of privacy by distractedly tracing patterns in the tile with my eyes.  He swept the rope of sopping wet hair from the center of my back and pressed a kiss to my neck.  I felt the shape of his strong body at my back, warm and inviting.

“I’m wonderful,” I answered softly, turning into his arms.  I smiled up at the sight of his wet hair sticking to the sides of his face. Water droplets clung to the tips of his long dark eyelashes.

He captured my lips for a smiling, wet kiss.

“I’m almost done,” he said.  “Two more minutes.”  Then, with a stupid grin, he pulled the chain and stood under the scalding shower.

I watched as he finished, cataloging all the little intimacies I was observing for the first time.  The way he threw his hair from his face, for example, or the scent he preferred for his soaps and oils.  He had a nasty, jagged scar that slashed across his lower thigh on his right leg.  In fact his entire body was littered with gruesome scars that seemed to hold long, battle-worn stories within them.  He tilted his head to the side to rinse his hair and my eyes traveled down the long, muscular column of his throat.

“I’m sorry I didn’t offer this to you sooner,” he said once the water had stopped.  He shook his hair out of his eyes and splattered me with water droplets.  “Considering our relationship at the start, I thought it might rub you the wrong way.”

I nodded solemnly.  “An accurate assumption.”

He gestured for me to back up and flapped his massive wings twice to shake the water from them.  Bared before me, pure muscle and sinew, he was a magnificent sight with his wings fully spread behind him.

Cassian’s washroom was a broad square chamber, covered from floor to ceiling in tiny, colored tiles.  The floor sloped gently down in the center to a drain.  It was as though he could flood the whole room, and no one would be the wiser.  I was sure he had tried, at least once.

His feet slapped on the wet tiles as he reached for two, fluffy white towels.  He wrapped me snuggly in one of them and patted me dry with delicate and indulgent attention to detail.  He smiled sheepishly as he finished, handing me the corners of the towel so that I could wrap it around my body.  Even though we’d spent hours and hours making love through the night, having him standing bare before me renewed the hunger under my skin.

Cassian seemed to sense it in me, or  _ smell _ it, perhaps.  “Pace yourself, Emissary,” he growled, even as he swooped down for a kiss that was anything but chaste.  I felt him hardening against me as we embraced but he stepped away and wrapped himself with a towel, shrouding his arousal from view.

He must have noticed my look of disappointment.  He pressed his finger between my brows, where I knew a line had formed.  “Immortal, remember? Let’s not injure ourselves on our first night together.”

He stepped away to the vanity to finger-comb his hair from his face.  I stood awkwardly in the center of the room, chewing on my lip.  “You keep saying that,” I said, softly.

“What’s that?”

“Immortal, eternity…  About you and I?”

His body froze in a way that chilled the fire burning inside me, just slightly.  Hands fell from his hair as he turned to face me, and he leaned slightly on the sink.  “Does it bother you?  Would you prefer if we kept it casual?”  He kept his voice calm, but even I knew he tearing himself apart inside.

“No,  _ no _ , of course not,” I said, hurriedly.  

He watched me carefully as I approached him.

I laid a hand on the flesh at his hip and he seemed to relax at the contact.  “What do we do now?  What do we call ourselves?  We’re not mates.  Will our companionship be challenged?”

A radiant smile of relief lit up his face.  He tugged a lock of my hair that had fallen free around my face.  “No one challenges me.  And besides, This is the Court of Dreams.  What kind of dream would it be if I couldn’t be with you?”

He was so lovely, I had to look away to stop the burning in my eyes.

“In regards to what we call ourselves, I defer to you, Emissary.  What do you want?”

The question filled my insides with butterflies.  “I don’t rightly know.  This is all new to me.  For Feyre, everything happened so quickly.  If that was something you wanted…”  I’d do it for him, marry him, or whatever they called it here.

“I don’t have my mother’s ring hidden away somewhere in my bedroom, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Cassian said, smile in his voice.

I covered my face with my hands.  “I didn’t mean…”

“Relax,” he chuckled, prying my fingers from my cheeks.  “I know what you meant.”

We watched each other quietly in the glowing light of the room, the sound of dripping water around us.

His brilliant eyes were like honey as he said, “With you, I want a companion.  I want to trust you in a way I can’t trust Az or Rhys.  I want to make you stronger and be stronger for it.”

My breath caught in my throat.

“I want to help you through this life, so you know you’re not alone.”  He pulled my hands and wrapped them around his waist so I stepped into his chest.  “I don’t want much, Nes.  Just you.”

I could think of nothing to do but kiss him.

“You have me,” I said when he pulled back.

His eyes were gleaming with emotion as he took me into his arms.  The remaining steam curled around our damp skin as we clung to each other.  Some day soon, I knew we would be challenged.  Whether it be war, my stupid mouth, or something greater between us.  For now, we had this; his warm body and strong arms around me, his lips on my hair and his heart beating in my ear.  The strength of what we shared shone brightly between us, new and brilliant.

He left me to brush my hair and dress as he worked on gathering something for breakfast.  After he cleared the doorway, I spent a length of time staring at myself in the mirror.  There were scratches across my chest from the stubble on his chin, and my lips were flushed and swollen.  Even as I watched myself, I couldn’t help but  _ feel  _ beautiful.

I’d never been wanted like this before.

I found one of Cassian’s shirts in his wardrobe and threw it over my head before joining him on the veranda.  The shirt hung off me like a tent, and the worn linen scratched my overly sensitive skin.  Even now I ached for his hands on me, his arms around me.  I let my feet fall confidently on the stone as I stepped into the sunlight.

He was seated at a tiny iron table shaded by the wall overhead.  His towel was still wrapped hastily around his waist as he gazed fixedly down at a stack of correspondence before him.  There was a carafe of coffee and a plate of fruit in the center of the table with various baskets of pastries scattered about.

“You shouldn’t spoil me,” I said lightly as I approached.  He looked up from his papers and smiled wickedly as he took in my outfit.  “You wouldn’t want me to get used to it.”

Cassian crooked his finger at me.  “I absolutely want you to get used to it,” he growled.

I sunk into the chair across from him and reached for the bowl of fruit.  He pulled a muffin from one of the baskets and set it on my plate.  “A gift from your sister, it seems.”  We shared a smile.  “I had the servants set this up for us.  They said that you liked coffee not tea.”

“Another one of Feyre’s failings,” I said evenly, pouring myself a cup.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

We ate quietly as the warmth of the day settled around us.  Over Cassian’s shoulder, I could see the expanse of Velaris sparkling in the morning like gems in candlelight.  Heat drifted up from the rooftops in invisible waves and a welcome breeze blew past us from the sea carrying small white birds overhead.

“It’s late. Am I keeping you from your work, General?”

Cassian smiled sweetly at me.  “Hardly.  I wrote Rhys a note that I’d be shirking my duties for the day.”

“What did you say?”

He ripped off a piece of his pastry with his teeth.  “That I was pleasuring my woman and he’d best shut his fat mouth.”

I choked on my coffee and slammed it back down on its saucer.  “ _ Cassian _ !”

“What?”

I wanted to shriek about manners and propriety, but his pleased grin stole the words from my mouth.  In this realm, in this court, and here with Cassian himself, those rules from my past had no weight.  We were free to love as we wished, and despite my embarrassment, I was grateful.  Instead I thought about my sister and her smug grin.  “Do you think he’ll tell Feyre?”  

“Oh absolutely.”  I scowled at him and Cassian waved his hand.  “Look, I’ve been listening to Rhys fuck his mate senseless for months now.  It’s only fair that I get the same opportunity.  I’m being merciful, really.”

My eyes widened.  “ _ Merciful _ ?”

He crossed his arms over his chest.  “He won’t hear a thing from up here.”

We spent the rest of the morning in the shade, enjoying our leisurely breakfast.  I watched the city below as Cassian read through the small stack of parchment he had brought to the table.

When he finished the last page, he lifted his eyes to watch me.  “I know this is bad timing, but I have to leave tomorrow for a few days.  I need to…” He swallowed grimly and glanced away.  All the beautiful scenery around him could not hide the grief on his face.  “The legion has finally arranged a ceremony for those lost in the war.  I need to be there.”

I reached my hand across the table to close around his bare wrist.  My heart broke for him, and the realm.  “Of course.”  I’d been there, I’d seen it all.  A mere heartbeat had spared him from a similar fate.  “I should come with you.”

Despite the sadness in his eyes, he smiled, and shook his head.  “Thank you, truly.  But, not this time.  It won’t be friendly business.”

I opened my mouth to speak, then shut it.  Cassian cocked his head.  “What is it?”

Carefully, “Don’t you think that it would be wise for me to attend? If I’m to be the emissary to the Human Realm, I think it would be right for me to be there.  All of this happened because your forces were protecting them.”

He was watching me warily.  “They’ll have questions.  Grievances.  I won’t hold them back from sharing them with you.”

“I understand.  I’ll prepare myself for the worst.”

Cassian let out a slow, relieved sigh.  At last the smile touched his eyes and he covered my hand with his.  “This,” he said.

“What?”

“This is what I want between us.”  He tugged me from my chair and around the table, until I sat on his lap.  His oversized shirt draped low over my chest, revealing a deep v of skin between my breasts.  He pressed a kiss to my throat and my collarbone then hid his face in my skin.  As the sun rose high over the streets of Velaris, Cassian told me everything.  His fears, his sorrow and his guilt.  I would be there for him, to bear some of this burden and protect him from it.  We weren’t alone anymore, and we should not pretend to be.

After he briefed me on everything, he lifted me off his lap, and twisted me so I could straddle him.  With a tug, he pulled the towel open at his waist.  We made love under the bright summer sky.  As I sunk down over him, I felt the growing sense of familiarity.  Of his body and the feeling of him inside me, filling me.

We moved so slowly that our arms shook.  Like the gentle, rolling current of the river below, we came undone together with words of love on our lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing sex scenes in fanfiction for the last seven years and somehow it never gets less terrifying, hah!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! We're almost there, and it's been such a pleasure to take this journey with all of you! Thank you for your wonderful comments, kudos and support over the last several weeks. Admittedly, I really enjoying watching you guys react to the angst, lol. 
> 
> More fluff next week in the final full chapter! Hope to see you there!
> 
> Thank you, as always, to my faithful friend and beta NoBaggage. She has ALSO been reading my p0rn for the last seven years and coaxing me through it. Even suggesting better turn of phrase! What a friendship!!! (No seriously, you guys. Beta with someone you TRUST). 
> 
> See you next week!


	10. Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the fluffy ending, y'all

####  Life

#####  Cassian

 

I was staring unseeingly at an ancient map of the realm when I sensed her. Dressed plainly in Illyrian-style leathers, she looked like every other being in this camp, and yet she was somehow the most beautiful.

I stood back from the table as Nesta breezed in like she owned the place.  My heart raced with a thrill as I remembered that this tent was hers too, and her haughty attitude was mine to keep.  My smile made her pause.

“What?” she asked, eyeing me as she unhooked a knife belt from her waist. She'd been carrying a sparring staff and she set that down too.

“Nothing,” I purred as I prowled towards her.

We’d spent the last two days orbiting around each other in this tent, and the Illyrian camp outside.  Now rid of the Cauldron, Nesta’s presence wasn’t feared by the other warriors.  Instead, Nesta at my side, in my tent, and in my bed made her the most precious being in the entire camp.  

We ate with the men under a low hanging canopy on grimy tables, we trained under the sweltering mountain sun, and we walked the muddy camp with strong, sure steps.  She was my companion, my ally and my lover.

Illyrian death ceremonies were simple and without fanfare. Despite that, the ceremony that morning had been an emotional and solemn affair.   There were no flowers or hymns, no pyres or open caskets.  However, grief was loudest in silence, and as we stood with our heads bent, honoring the dead, emotions hung heavily in the spaces between us.  Nesta stood at my side, a silent comfort.  I did not reach for her, but I felt her every moment.

When it was over, my insides swarmed like a hive of angry bees.  I needed to get back to work to take my mind off things. To her glorious credit, Nesta upheld her promise to speak to the families and officers who had questions and demands about the human realm. Gone was the disdain for my people that had once clouded her expression. I watched how far she had come in these few short months as she offered information and assurances with grace and diplomacy.  

Even still, I could see the shadow fall over her brow when she, too, was consumed by guilt and sadness. While I distracted myself with work, I had arranged for Nesta to train with the female legion of warriors. By the look on her face, it appeared that the exercise had been effective.

Now, after a long day apart, Nesta settled in my arms with boneless ease.  It was still new to have this, to have  _ her _ in my arms. Even as she raised herself on her toes to kiss me on the lips, it was hard to remember that days ago I was in this tent alone.

“How did you find the combat today?”

Her eyes shone with a new kind of wonder.  “Incredible.  Cassian, they’re amazing.  I’d like to visit them again.  I feel...a connection to them.”

The thought of my human-born lover feeling connected to my people was almost too much.  I couldn’t contain the joy on my face.  “I’ll do what I can, Emissary.”

The hope felt good inside my chest.  As the rest of the grief and sadness weighed upon both of our shoulders, it was a comfort to have this shelter together.  Her lips, her warmth, her soft hands moving over the skin on my forearms.  Kisses began to morph into something far more distracting as our day-long separation dawned on us. 

Nesta tangled her fingers in the loose linen of my shirt.  “I hardly thought I'd see you out of your leathers at camp. Don't you sleep in them?”

I hummed a laugh. “You know that I don't.”

Her cheeks flushed and I kissed one of them, then her jaw, her ear, her neck.  I inhaled a deep lungful of her scent and marveled at the heavenly warmth of her flawless skin.

“Cassian,” she warned.

“Nesta.”

“Don't you have more important things to do?”

“Than you?”  I unhooked the buckles across her chest without lifting my head.

She sucked in a shallow breath.  “I don’t want to distract you from work.”

“Making sure my guests are comfortable is one of my duties.  Are you comfortable?”  On cue, I released the last buckle on her tunic so it opened fully.  My hands slid over her stomach and up to cover her breasts.

“You’re insatiable,” she scolded, but it was an empty threat.  She was already working on my belt.

I reached over my shoulder to pull my shirt over my head as she let her tunic fall to the ground.  When we came back together she was watching me.  

“What?” I asked, unhooking her belt with clumsy fingers.

“I don’t know how to say it.  It’s...not very ladylike.”

“ _ You _ , say something unladylike?  Do continue.”

She chewed on her lip bashfully, until she said in a low voice, “I want to feel what you’re thinking when you look at me like that.”

My body surged against her at her words and I felt my legs buckle.  

“I’ve seen that look on your face hundreds of times.  What do you want to do to me right now, Cassian?”

I hardly knew that I could put it into a single action.  My need for her was body consuming.  My fingers were still clutching the opening of her leather leggings.

Her hands ran up and across my bare chest, tracing the lines of my tattoos and scars with the smooth pads of her fingertips.  It was dim in our tent, but the shadows from trees overhead splashed patterns across the canvas.  The low light made her pale eyes shine in the darkness like freshly honed steel.  Inside, the fire in my chest roared to life with renewed force.  With a swift and deliberate tug, I pulled her pants to her knees.

Her gasp went straight to my cock.

“I think,” I said slowly, licking my lips, “this  _ might _ be considered fucking…”

She pressed a kiss to the hollow of my throat and let her lips linger as she purred, “Show me.”

I flipped her around so her back pressed to my chest.  My arms encircled her narrow frame, palms flat on her skin.  She leaned her head back against my shoulder and I pressed nose to her temple.  “I love you,” I murmured against her hair.  “Cauldron damn me, I love you, Nesta.”

She turned her head into my touch.

I began to move my hands over her skin as slowly as I could manage.  Down her stomach and across her ribs.  Between her breasts and over until I had one in my hand.  “You’re so beautiful,” I said, teasing her with my fingers.  “In all my five-hundred years I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful…”

“Don’t lie to me with your hands on me,” she snapped, but I could hear the smile in her voice.

I nosed her head to the side and traced down her cheek to her ear where I took her lobe between my teeth.  She cried out.  

“Hush,” I said.

As my hands ghosted across her skin, I moved our feet one by one until we neared my target.  Under my fingers, her skin was pebbled with gooseflesh and her breaths ripped from her lips at each pass.

With gentle hands, I guided her wrists up to a nearby tent pole.  “Lean forward and hold this,” I growled.  She did as I said, closing her pale fingers around the ancient beam that had held up my tent for the last three-hundred years.

I reached around her hips and between her legs to touch her.  She hissed.

“Cassian,” she gasped.

The dampness against my fingers was almost my undoing.  I lowered my head to work her neck with slow, leisurely open-mouthed kisses.  “Patience, Emissary.”

I slipped my free hand between us so I could unfasten my own pants then pressed my aching hardness against her backside until she groaned.

“I’ve wanted you every moment since the day I met you,” I growled near her ear.

She was so wet, I slid inside with one, slow thrust.  She cried out and gripped the tent pole until her knuckles turned white.  I felt her quiver and tighten around me, already so close.  

“Sweetheart,” I cooed, caressing over her stomach.

“I’ve wanted this all day,” she moaned, as I moved inside her again, slow and deep.

“Yes,” I growled.

By the next thrust she had come undone around me, crying my name into the fading light.  

“I haven’t even started yet,” I teased, nipping her ear.

Through gasping breaths, “Then start.”

I raised one hand to cover both of hers and I let my desires consume me.  The feeling over her body against mine, the warmth of being inside her.  My pace quickened and she held on to the pole to push back against me.

Now it was my turn to cry out, growling loudly into the skin of her shoulder.  “Yes, Nesta,” I said.  The tension was rising in me, closer and closer to the edge.  Still, I gripped her harder, fucked her faster.

I pressed my nose into the back of her neck.  “This is what I think about,” I groaned.  “Bending you over like this.”

“Yes.”

A coil inside me was unwinding.  

“You’re everything I want,” I said, bracing myself as my climax hit hard and fast.

In terms of my resume, it certainly wasn’t a benchmark in stamina, and my knees were still shaking when we crawled onto my pallet of furs.  Our chests rose and fell as we caught our breath.  Nesta watched me with a wide-eyed wonder.

“Do you think the men heard?” she asked.

I smiled up at the roof of the tent. “Absolutely.”

She covered her face with her hands.

“I want them to hear.”  I smirked at her.  “Being yours gives me a great amount of pride.  I’d appreciate it if they knew that too.”

She rolled her eyes but I laughed and pulled her against me.  “Was that too much, just then?”

Nesta tucked her head under my chin and nuzzled into my chest.  “No. I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of it.”

We lay in the quiet tent for a long, drawn out period of time.  Around us, the sounds of camp filtered through the canvas.  There was the clang of sharpening blades, clomping footsteps, and rustling armor.  I pressed my nose into her hair and breathed deep.

“I’m glad you offered to join me here,” I said.  

She shifted and rested her chin on my chest so she could watch me.  “When I must go to the human realm, will you come with me?”

“Of course.”

Her lips pursed and she looked away, as though embarrassed.  “That's not to say that I  _ couldn’t _ go alone, it’s just-”

“I know,” I said gently, sliding my fingers through her hair.  “It would be my honor to accompany you wherever you need me.  Just as it’s an honor to have the same from you.”

With a slow sigh, she pressed a kiss to my chest.  

We fell into a lazy slumber, the kind that I hadn’t afforded myself in many years.  Soon we would rise from my bed to carry out duties and responsibilities, but for now, we had each other and our hopes and dreams pressed close between us.  

Ahead, our future shone bright with promise.

 

***

#####  Nesta

 

I felt Cassian’s presence behind me as he entered the room.  I had never been so aware of anything in my entire life.  The creaking sounds of his leather armor, the slight jangle of swords and weapons at his hip, and the gentle flapping noise of his powerful wings behind him.  I listened for him always, and I wondered if any being had ever been so attuned to his presence. 

I hadn’t been entirely sure of what to expect at the House tonight.  It was the first time we’d all been together since Cassian and I had spent the night together.  

Cassian and I had been apart for the last several days.  I had left the Illyrian camp with Rhys after a border dispute with another clan had called Cassian away. We'd hardly had time for any semblance of a goodbye, what with Rhys gawking at us.  A chaste kiss was all we could manage as the din of battle rose up around us. Cassian had dragged the back of his finger down my cheek and smiled wickedly at me.  “See you in a few days, Emissary.”

Something lit up inside me as I watched him walk away, dressed in full regalia and surrounded by his powerful retinue.  Pride, perhaps?  I had the honor of loving this powerful General and all that came with it.  

I had spent the last few days occupied and anxious, but not worried.  Why should I be worried? He was the most powerful soldier in the realm.  After all, he’d left countless times since I’d known him, and the gods only knew what kind of battles.  

Instead, I had been anxious about this reunion.  I suspected Cassian was too.  What would they say?  How would we behave around them?

This evening, I had dressed in a nervous rush for dinner, throwing on the navy dress I hadn't worn since my very first evening with The Court of Dreams. I remembered the look in his eyes that night, and I could hardly wait to see his reaction now.  Nuala had twisted a woven braid around the crown of my head, leaving my neck and shoulders bare, just the way Cassian liked.

All day I had been itching to get to the House, to see him. I was unusually fidgety. So much so, everyone was watching me as  though I was about to leap out of my own skin.  I could only imagine what they knew by now.  I trusted Rhys enough not to blab what he'd seen, but I did not hold the same standard for my sister.  She’d been hovering around me all evening, watching every little twitch at the corner of my mouth or shift of my fingers.  The others lingered outside my personal space, friendly, knowing, and accepting.

All day, a deep, tangible excitement had been blooming in my stomach, heating my blood.  I had missed Cassian before, many times, but never with our feelings out in the open. Never with the  knowledge that he would take me into his arms tonight, once we were alone…

My body was humming at the anticipation of continuing life with Cassian. Soft mornings in his arms, rough sparring across the training ring, and fiery arguments that I knew were waiting for us. His heart, his head and every glorious part of his strong, tall body was mine to love. I ached to feel the weight of him over me, and the heart-pounding anticipation of our bodies joining as he trailed kisses from my head to my toes.

I sucked in a long, slow breath through my nose and released it. Cassian was here and he was coming for me. He was safe and he was  _ mine. _

My back was to the glass doors of the dining room.  The setting sun warmed the folds of my dress and bare patches of my skin.  There were a series of slow, deliberate steps behind me.  Warmth from the sun was replaced by the warmth of a body, of wings surrounding me.  He was close enough to touch, close enough to turn in his arms and greet him properly, but I stood my ground.  His hands clasped my arms gently, wrists encased in his leather bracers with his brilliant syphons shining brightly in the sunlight.  His thumbs hooked on the bare skin of my shoulder as he bent his head down and pressed a slow, reverent kiss to my neck.

“Emissary,” he growled softly, low enough to be for my ears alone.  I inclined my head against his for a brief moment, before he retreated and stepped around me.  He passed in a rush of leather and wings.  The exchange had taken a mere moment, hardly enough for anyone to notice.  Except, of course, everyone was watching intently.

Rudely.

_ Busybodies _ .

Cassian smiled crookedly at me over his shoulder and I bit back my own smile, hoping the flush on my cheeks was sign enough.

Because inside…  I felt like I was breaking apart with happiness.

The rest of dinner was uneventful.  Considering Cassian was the one who normally would have broached such a sensitive topic, I was grateful to have him on my side.  We shared pleasantries on the outside patio as the rest of the court paired off for the flight down.  Cassian stepped before me and smiled with his face lit by the cloud-covered moonlight.

“Well, sweetheart,” he said, “What'll it be?”

I raised a brow in response.

Cassian reached across to fiddle with the intricate gold necklace that hung low between my breasts. “Up here with me, or down there with them?”

“What is your preference?”

He grinned. “My preference would have been that we didn't have to play this dress-up game at all and we were in bed already. But, things being as they are...” he eyed me cautiously before bending down to press a sweet kiss to my cheek. “I'd like for you to stay with me tonight.”

I inclined my head.  “It would be my pleasure.”

“Yes.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled.  “It will.”

With that famed Illyrian speed, he whirled around me and held me close to his chest. The others were watching us.

“We’ll stay here tonight.  Goodnight.”

Feyre’s face was priceless and I sucked in my lips to hide a smile.

“Fascinating,” Rhys murmured, before Feyre grabbed his arm and yanked him away.  

With blown kisses (from Amren) and knowing smiles (from Azriel), our friends and family leapt off the balcony and into the night, leaving us, at last, alone.

Slowly, and without hurry, we turned and wandered back into the dining room.  Cassian took my hand as we moved down the hall, past the sitting room and library until suddenly I was shoved up against a wall.  His lips and hands were on me, picking up exactly where we always seemed to leave off.

His kisses seeped down to my soul, latching tightly to my heart.  When he pulled away, his eyes were wild and bright.  “I’ve been dying to do that all night,” he growled.

I dragged my fingers through his hair to pull it away from his face.  “What took you so long?”

He laughed as he kissed me again, but his face was serious when he pulled back.  “I didn’t think you would want that.”

“No, not particularly.  Not in front of the others.”  My eyes lifted to his.  “That doesn’t mean I don’t  _ want _ it, you know.”

Cassian smiled.  “I know.”

“Perhaps eventually.”

“Well then,” he said, pulling me from the wall and back into the center of the hallway.  “I’ll have to challenge you some time.”

“Oh, you always do…”

His laughter echoed off the stone walls as he wound me through the hallways and stairwells until we arrived at the training arena atop the palace.  It was much as I’d seen it other times, stocked with weapons and supplies under gently billowing canopies.  Only now, it was night, and the sky was bright with moonlight and low clouds.

Cassian dropped a canvas mat down on the stone with a  _ whap _ .  A plume of dust floated up from where it fell.  “Do you and Azriel often gaze up on the stars together?” I drawled.

“So feisty tonight.”

He’d found his way into my space again, fingers entwining with mine and pulling me even closer.  “Are you going to make love to me, spread out amongst the stars?” I asked.

I had said it as a joke, because who had heard of such things?  Such blatant and public lovemaking was unheard of...wasn’t it?  His eyes said otherwise, however.  They were dark, almost black in the night.  The scent of him washed over me like I was drowning in it.  I felt my eyes flutter closed as the image of our naked bodies intertwined under the pale light of the moon lit a fire low in my stomach.   _ What was wrong with me? _

“Cassian,” I breathed helplessly when he caught me in a kiss that seemed to sweep me off my feet.  His broad hands kneaded gently into the exposed, low back of my dress.  Muscles I didn’t know were sore seemed to uncoil under his fingers, pressing me tighter and tighter into his body.  I slid my hands up his chest, over the worn and familiar scales of his leathers.

That scent of him - of his arousal - hit me again and I sighed over his lips.

When at last he broke our kiss, he pressed our heads together.  “It’s good to be home,” he said in a low, rough voice.

“I was about to crawl out of my own skin waiting for you,” I said.  “You arrived just in time.”

His arms snaked around my body and held me tight.  There were no words until he pulled back, slowly.  His voice was soft as he said, “I brought you up here to look at the stars.  This is the best view in all of Velaris.  But now…”  He brushed hair behind my ear.  “All I can think about  _ is _ spreading you out up here.”

My mouth went dry.  “Won’t...someone find us?”

“Doubtful,” he said with a crooked smile.  “And if they did happen to find us, I don’t think we’d notice them before they turned around and ran away for fear of their lives.”

My heart was thundering in my ears.

“But, as always, it's your choice.  I really did bring you up here to look at the stars.  And before you tease me again,  _ yes _ , Az and I have been stargazing together.  Rhys too.  That’s how I know it’s the best view.”

The reminder of his sweet, loving nature made me want to kiss him again.  I pressed one of my palms to his cheek.  “Show me the stars,” I said in a whisper.

For an hour, I followed his finger from star to star as he pointed out the constellations and explained the myths behind them.  A fighting lion and its captive serpent, the imprisoned dragon, the three sisters.

I thought he could have gone on all night, but eventually he caught my hand in his and occupied his lips with kissing his way down my wrist.  My arm.  My shoulder.  Until my dress was unbuttoned and his tongue was pressing into my skin, making me cry out.

He took me slowly, unwinding me with his mouth on my skin before entering me with one deliberate push.  I wrapped my legs around his waist and held him tight as the stars moved overhead.  With each thrust we drove ourselves further and further from the training ring, the House, Velaris, until there was nothing but Cassian and me.

He roared mightily when he came, then murmured my name over and over into my shoulder as he slowed his movements, until at last he was still.

We watched each other in moonlit darkness, eyes sparkling with the bright stars and sky.  I lifted my hands to his face and pressed my fingers into his skin.  So often, his delicate features were overshadowed by his burly frame, unruly hair and near constant stubble.  Like Rhys and Azriel, he was equally, beautifully otherwordly.  And while normally he looked like he belonged amidst the battlefields of Prythian, here, between my fingers, I struggled to come to terms with ever letting him go.

“I’ve waited a long time for you to look at me that way,” he sighed, leaning into my hand.  

“I know.”

As his strong body hovered over me, keeping me warm, I felt more powerful than ever.  It was then that I realized; I didn’t have to be alone to feel strong.  Cassian would make me strong too.

With his body, his strength, and his faith in me.

He was smiling.  “You just figured something out, didn’t you?”

I nodded.  “Yes.”

One of his fingers curled further into my hair at the base of my neck.  “Care to share?”

“Thank you.”

He blinked then laughed.  “For what? The last forty-five minutes? Sweetheart, you never need to thank me for  _ that _ .”

I jabbed him hard with my elbow.  “For wanting me despite what I am.  For treating me gently when I think sometimes I’m covered in scales.  For giving me the space to be  _ me _ .”

He kissed me slowly with smiling lips.  “I’d hope that any male you had chosen would do the same, but I’m honored it gets to be me.”

“You’ve treated me with more kindness and devotion than anyone I’ve ever known, except maybe my sisters.  And if I hadn’t been so stubborn, I never would have made you wait so long.”

“It was more than worth the wait, Nesta.”

The cool breeze of night was getting to be too much against my bare skin, but as we kissed I felt every ounce of warmth inside him pass into my own body.  Soon we would retire inside, warm in his bed with our limbs tangled.  I knew he’d take me again, perhaps more quickly in a fit of passion.  Already I was aching for it.  There was something else too, something bright and buoyant in my chest.

Love. Acceptance.  _ Home _ .

In my short time on this earth, only Cassian had persevered long enough to break through the walls I had put up around myself.  Not by force, no.  The great Illyrian Warlord had not fought his way through anything. He’d waited and calmly climbed over everything I had thrown before him.  Now, sheltered within the fortress we’d built together, I was his prize.

Cassian had won me, body and soul.

Forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I've written and finished a multi-chapter fic, in one sitting, in probably 5 years. I'm so glad to have shared this experience with all of you.
> 
> I wrote this as a farewell to the ACOTAR series, and to let it go. (As most fic writing tends to do). I'm hoping I have at least a year before this turns obsolete...but who knows!
> 
> As I said, I'm so honored and humbled to have had your support over the last 8 weeks or so. This has been immensely fun. I do hope you enjoyed the ending!
> 
> Thank you also to my dearest NoBaggage who is not only a truly great beta, but also my real life friend. Without your encouragement, who knows if I would have finished this! If you all like Captive Prince, be sure to check out her stories. And if you don't know what Captive Prince is, go read it, then read her stories.
> 
> I have an epilogue penned that I'd like to post some time soon, but for now I'm making this complete!! Thank you!


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hello!
> 
> I promised you didn't I? I had a lot of fun playing with immortal time in this little window into the future. Please enjoy!

####  Epilogue

#####  Cassian

 

This rhythm had become a part of my life. The attacks, the counters, blocking and aiming true. If someone had asked me fifty years ago if I thought I'd be having daily spars with Nesta Archeron, I would have told them to jump off a cliff.

She aimed a particularly brutal strike at my wing bone and hit home.

“ _ Fuck _ ! I thought we said no wings!”

“Do you tell that to your enemies? On your feet, General.”

If someone had asked me fifty years ago if I'd be having daily spars with the women I loved, I would have probably laughed in their face at the suggestion.  How wrong I would have been...

Sometimes I wished I could watch our duels from the outside, the way the others did. Nesta had become a skilled, acrobatic fighter. The female legion had taught her well.  Her technique was stunning. Paired with my normal, driving force, we cut across the ring like swallows through twilight. 

I breathed in time with her as I parried a calculated strike and counter. She was sweaty and flushed with exertion and Mother, she was beautiful.

A swift slap stung my face and made my ears ring.

“Are you awake?” She barked. 

The fiery burn of anger licked the back of my throat. I was awake, of course, but I was distracted. Too distracted to be fighting like this. I blocked her lovely face from my mind and fought back.

We'd been sparring almost daily for the past fifty years. We'd been doing a lot of other things for fifty years too, but this seemed to be one of the most important. Trust, dedication, skill, humility, honesty. We threw it all on the ground atop the red mountains and came together like this. Sometimes it was better than sex. Other times, like today, it certainly was not and my body was humming with anticipation. 

This was how we worked through everything; anger, hurt, fear, whatever it was. With trust in the ring and love in our hearts.  We had tackled it all so far.

Except maybe one thing…

I'd overtaken her at the edge of the ring, pushing her back, back, back, until she was pressed to a smooth wall of rock. Without mercy, I slapped her staff from her hand and she watched it skitter across the ring, more than out of reach.

“That's seemed unnecessary-”

Her lips were salty with sweat, and it only took a moment before she became pliant in my arms. I could only win a fight like this a few times a year. I was glad my tactic seemed to be working this time.

I pulled away after a moment and watched her eyes open slowly. They glimmered in the dim autumn sunlight overhead.

“I call foul,” she said, with a teasing smile.

I laughed and kissed her again, taking my time with her. The stone was cool in the shadows, towering over us by hundreds of feet.

When we broke our kiss a second time, I took one of her hands , and reached into my pocket with the other.  Having found what I needed, I pressed it into the open palm of her hand.

She looked down at where I'd placed a narrow ring: an Illyrian gold band with alternating diamonds and rubies. It was a tasteful and modest ring, and she could never complain about gaudiness. Simple and elegant, that was Nesta.

“I'm tired of asking. I want you to marry me,” I said.  Our chests were still heaving from our skirmish moments ago.  Curled tendrils of hair had fallen around her face, brushing her skin in the wind.

Nesta lifted her head with her pale eyes blazing.  “By the Cauldron, Cassian!”

“What?”

“You’re asking me like  _ this _ ?”

My anger flared.  “Now hold on! I’ve tried to ask you every other way for the last ten years, and you’ve ignored me completely.  I thought if I surprised you maybe you’d answer honestly.”

She pressed her other palm to her forehead and sighed deeply.  “You really want to marry me?”

I glared at her.

“Why?”

I growled and stepped closer.  “Are we doing this again?”

Sometimes, at moments like this, after everything we'd shared in our life together, she became that lonely girl I'd met long ago. Lost was that swagger and confidence we'd built together. She watched me with wide, frightened eyes and I felt a solid thump from my heart. My darling girl. I dropped to my knees at Nesta’s feet and took her hands in mine.

“Because it has been half a century and I’ve been in love with you every single day, Nesta.  I want to be bound to you.”

Slowly, the tightness in her shoulder eased and she smiled.

Over the last five decades, Nesta and I had been like crazed bats out of hell, while Feyre and Rhys had been good, normal fae.  They had dealt with the problems of Prythian and our court, they’d talked seriously about children and finally had their first, they’d grown their power and skills.  On the other hand, Nesta and I had bashed around the realm like a true pair of Illyrians.  We’d brought down  _ at least _ three buildings from our...nightly activities.  We’d practically blasted a human queen’s castle of the face of the earth.  Despite all of that, we had defended our realm through battles and skirmishes, both together and apart.  

Our lives had turned out differently than either of us had imagined, and it had been  _ fun _ .  In my wildest dreams, I had never imagined life with Nesta would be this much fun.

Now, as she watched me with a small, sweet smile across her lips, I realized I wanted more with her.  I needed others to see the seriousness of our partnership, and how much she meant to me.

I got to my feet and took her face in my hands. “Marry me,” I said.

“Tonight?”

I blinked.  “I suppose. I don’t care when.”

“But not tonight?”

“Why in the hell does that matter?”

“Because we have three hours until dinner.  Take me to a priestess-”

I kissed her senseless before she could finish her thought.  This female, this  _ goddess. _  I nearly took her against the wall in that moment, until I realized we could look forward to a more meaningful celebration later.  We showered and dressed quickly before leaping off my veranda into the brilliant autumn afternoon.  

She married me under the cool shade of an elm tree with the orange and red leaves wavering overhead.  She wore nothing more than an ash grey dress she had thrown on in our hurried rush to leave the palace.  Her cheeks were still flushed from our training earlier.  All that was different was the ring on her finger.

As the priestess waved her hands over our heads, we watched each other in various stages of disbelief.

In the span of my lifetime, it seemed like only last week that we had nearly torn each other apart trying to come to terms with our relationship.  I remembered the first time I saw her as clearly as any other memory in my ancient brain.  

I spoke my vows in a hushed voice with burning eyes, and as I promised to keep her as long as light touched the earth, I felt the bargain etch deep into my soul.  On my left hand, around my fourth finger, a thick black band had appeared.  Inked into my skin by the gods of my realm and the love in my heart.

When I kissed her I felt something shift, something new.  Her hands were soft on my back as she held me.  Her bright eyes shone up at me as the priestess left us in the courtyard.

“And I suppose I’m to call you ‘husband’ now instead of ‘general.’?”

“Don’t you dare,” I growled.

  
  


***

#####  Nesta

 

For whatever reason, Feyre and Rhys’ son loved sitting on my lap.

His name was Abarron, and even at six months old, there was no mistaking that he would one day rule the realm.  With his brilliant blue eyes and his luminous skin, he was nothing short of perfect.  His tiny, powerful fists demanded attention, and our family was only too pleased to give it to him.

Our bond started the day he was born.  The moment Rhys placed him into my nervous arms, I knew we were two peas in a pod.  It was possible I would never have children of my own, but for now, my young nephew was enough.

He smelled like soap and skin, in the most delightful way.  His hair was inky black and he loved when I fussed with it.  As the evening sun lit the dining room in luminous gold, a group of us sat quietly around the baby, watching him as we normally did.  Feyre was sitting next to me, waiting.  She never failed to be mystified by the quiet moments we shared together.  The instant he left my arms, there was crying and yelling.

This evening he was fiddling with my wedding ring, eyes wide as the gems caught the light from outside.  It was new to him, a fresh discovery of light and color. With each flick of my hand, I caught Cassian’s eye from across the room.  He winked at me.

“You should have your own,” Feyre said, from my right.  She reached across my lap and smoothed her thumb over her son’s tiny foot.

“My own what?”

She smiled.  “Child, you goose.”

I grunted.  “I already have one.” I nodded towards Cassian.

Feyre bit her lip to swallow a guffaw.

It had been over fifty years since my sisters and I landed ourselves in the Fae realm one way or another.  While Elain had migrated away from the Night Court, Feyre and I remained, tied to our winged lovers and the kingdom we’d grown to call home.  Where Feyre had found freedom in the Night Court, I had found  _ space _ .  

Space to grow, be myself and love as I wished.

And I had loved fiercely for the last fifty years.

My husband, Cauldron boil him, was across the room with the rest of his brothers, chatting in the shadows cast by the ceiling-height window frames.  From here, their honeyed skin gleamed like amber in the light.  A pair of hazel eyes sparkled at me from across the room before flitting back to the conversation at hand.  I bit back a smile.

Somehow the fact that he was my  _ husband _ still made me blush.

It seemed silly to feel the constant thrum in my stomach when I thought of him.  After all, we’d been committed for the last five decades.  But there was something about that gleam in his eyes, a gleam I knew was only for me.  The way he held me so gently when I knew he could crush a skull between his hands.  Or perhaps the warm gentleness he saved for when we were finally alone together.

Our adventures were vast and varied, ranging from peaceful to disastrous.  I had fought in battles, surrounded by my comrades in the female Illyrian legions.  We had made strides with the human realms after years and years of talks and more.  We’d made peace with most Prythian realms, despite a few broken buildings…  I’d even made peace with my sister and strengthened our relationship to be something more closely related to friends than distant relations.

Our Night Court family was as dear to me as any blood relatives, not that I had many.  Mor and I were particularly close, although Amren and I seemed to have a secret understanding.  Ever since Mor had started a relationship with a female warrior, we had seen a lot more of each other at camp.  Trained together, talked together.  Our secrets were shared and kept tightly between us.

She had yet to appear this evening in the House of Wind.  I assumed she had been wrapped up in a romantic, extended goodbye with her lover.  In her place, Amren yawned idly at my side.  Not one for babies, although she tolerated the young prince as best she could.

Abarron was gumming my finger when our missing family member finally arrived.  She was still dressed in her dark Illyrian leathers, long, scarlet cape billowing in her wake.  Strapped to her back was a magnificent broadsword that I hadn’t seen before.

She entered with great fanfare, as the males cheered from across the room.  She flipped them a rude gesture before walking towards our quieter gathering.  The child smiled wide at her as she sunk down at my knees.

“Hello little prince,” she cooed, wiggling his feet in her hands.

“And how fare the winged forces?” Feyre asked.  “Along with other things.”

Mor glared at her and ignored the hidden meaning.  Everyone knew Rhys, Cassian  _ and _ Azriel had excellent hearing.  This was not the place to discuss relationships.  Even still, Cassian wolf whistled.

“I’ll tell you the good stuff later, but first-”

With a cry of surprise, Feyre whisked Abarron from my lap, as Mor unsheathed the magnificent sword at her back.  “I have a gift, lady Emissary.”

My eyes widened in shock as she lay the sword across her palms. 

“The female legion sends their joy and blessings for your marriage.  They offer you this gift in honor of your strength and perseverance in taming the wild Lord of Bloodshed.”  She bit down hard to hide her smile.  “And also as a celebration of your kinship.”

I gawked at her.  Surely this weapon could not be for me.

As if called, Cassian appeared beside Mor.  “I heard steel,” he said in answer, staring fixedly at the blade.  “Is that for you, sweetheart?”

“Apparently.”

Mor sighed.  “Will one of you please take it?”

“Of course.  Sorry.” I reached across the space between us to close my fingers around the hilt.  The long blade of the weapon was engraved with intricate, twisting designs of thorny vines and serpent scales.  As I lifted it from Mor’s hands, I gasped at the weight of the thing.  It was so light, I hardly believed it was real.

I looked up at Cassian, who was beaming so broadly, I thought he might be close to tears.  

“Do try to contain yourself,” I teased, scowling at him.

He grinned sheepishly.  “Can you blame me?  Those are my people, who sent you that. And you are my wife.”

That feeling again, like butterflies and flames low in my belly.   _ Wife _ .

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mor said, standing to her feet.  “I’m going to change out of these wretched things.” She gestured down to her leather-clad legs and strode off in the direction of her spare bedchambers in the palace.  Feyre trotted eagerly behind, keen for gossip.

Cassian knelt at my feet and lifted the scabbard that Mor had left behind. He helped me lower the sword into it, then set it across my lap.  “Well, it looks like you’re a true Illyrian now.”

“It must be true, if it’s coming from you.”

We shared a smile and I looked down at his hands, where they rested on my knees.  I traced the dark black line on his left hand with my finger.  The line where our union had branded him for eternity.  Flames burned brighter in my stomach.

I cleared my throat distractedly.  “And I suppose you’ll call me ‘Warrior’ now, as well as Emissary?”

Cassian chuckled then shook his head.  “Not quite.”

“What then?”

“I’m quite fond of  _ wife, _ if you must know.”

He flipped his hands as I reached for him, and our palms pressed together, fingers entwining.  “Fool.”

“ _ No _ .”

I arched a brow.

“ _ Husband _ , remember?”

I snorted, then giggled, then fell into full-fledged laughter, all while he watched me with bright, shining eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. OFFICIAL END. I hope you liked it!
> 
> If I decide to write any more for these crazy immortals, it will be a different story. It's been weird not writing them for 2 weeks now!
> 
> Thank you again for all of your support and encouragement through writing this! You all are fantastic!
> 
> Thanks to my sistah, [NoBaggage](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NoBaggage/pseuds/NoBaggage) for her sage advice and proof reading. Also, if you are a Captive Prince fan, she has a new story that she's writing. [Please check it out!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11494935/chapters/25786608)


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